Like A Cheesecake, Part II: See You At The Bitter End
by Clio S.S
Summary: The story of Josh continues. Is he going to find his happiness? The name of the last part inspired by Placebo and "The Bitter End".
1. Chapter 1

**1.**  
_**(tää kaikki sattui liian lujaa pieneen enkeliin)**_

* * *

Paris train pulled into the station of Idealo and was then left by those passengers whose long travel ended here. One of that group, a fairly tall young man, was now looking around the platform, somewhat at a loss. He was clad in a black overcoat, that emphasized his trimness and maybe made him look taller as well. His hair was dark, too, almost black - but his eyes were surprisingly light. The sun, appearing from behind the clouds every now and then, curiously moved its finger over his mop and looked into his golden irises. He was holding a suitcase in one hand and quite big package wrapped in brown paper in the other. He was soon approached by a porter asking which hotel the luggage should be shifted to, but the man only shook his head, and the carrier left, looking for another potential source of his income.

'The day that I have my luggage carried has yet to come,' Joshua Or concluded, thinking of what he should do next.

The train whistled and pulled out of the station to continue its journey south. People slowly dispersed, most of them accompanied by welcomers, and the platform was becoming empty. Josh adjusted the package under his armpit, clenched a handle of his suitcase and made for the station building. He left the luggage in the storage and went out to the city.

The depression from the north must have extended over the whole country, for it was cold ever here. End of June meant ungodly heat in Idealo, but today it was fifteen degrees at the very most. At least, it was quite a fine day; in Paris, it had been raining for some days now... Well, suspicious clouds did roll over the sky, but the sun didn't give up and kept shining on the bright scenery beneath them. Josh slowly walked down the Station Street, gracefully avoiding the puddles, that reflected the blue of the sky whenever they caught it.

After one year, he was back in Idealo. He hadn't even missed it, at least not consciously - but now he was greeting the familiar views with a mixture of emotion and melancholy. After all, it was this town he had spent some wonderful years in - and he had suffered from the greatest disappointment of his life, too... He was looking around, his gaze catching the well-known buildings and drawing out the characteristic points from the scenery. The tall tower of the Cathedral, the Town Hall, and the General Hospital more to the left. It seemed nothing had changed in Idealo, he quickly decided, as if he had left only yesterday. He took a deep breath, inhaling the atmosphere of calm and serenity he really had missed in Paris; that much he could admit.

As he made his way towards the Market Square, the streets became more crowded. It was early afternoon, so he could see few cars. He was being passed mostly by older people, as well as mothers with children. It seemed it had been raining here heavily in the last days, too, so the change in weather must have drawn the inhabitants out of their homes. Josh felt he was relaxing. The bustle of the city was surrounding him - and this time it was friendly. In Paris, he could never resist the impression the city wanted to eat him alive.

He crossed the market, passing the stalls and their customers, and entered the Little Market Square. He realized where he was only when he spotted the familiar sign just across the square, right ahead. The _Patisserie Shelly_ had its door welcomingly open and tempted with the delicacies in the window. He came to a stop, overwhelmed by the surge of memories and emotions; emotions were even faster. He was standing there and trying to calm his heart and regain his balance. Finally, he relaxed his fists. No, he felt like eating a lunch, not a dessert. All his breakfast was two sandwiches he had eaten in the train, and his stomach demanded a real meal. He was going to find a restaurant...

But as he moved from the spot, his legs took him to that particular shop - and now he was standing in the doorway, perplexed. He looked around and saw the familiar hairdresser's sign. He suppressed a sigh and went inside.

"Welcome!" the shop assistant called out to him from behind the counter.

He approached, still hesitant, but already succumbing to the sweet smells filling the patisserie. 'The dinner must wait,' he thought, gazing at the delicacies in the displays.

"A cheesecake and one Earl Grey," he ordered, swallowing.

The woman bustled, and soon he was making his way towards the table by the window, filled tray in his hands. 'Much cheaper than in the capital,' he thought, distracted, putting the plate and the cup down. He waited for tea to brew, making himself comfortable in the chair and leaning back. His muscles protested; some hours of sitting in the train had taken its toll on them.

Somewhat astonished, he realized how much his behaviour had changed with regard to physical activity, and in just few years. As a child, he had been extremely lively; in middle school - and in the beginning of high school, too - he just couldn't stay still. Later, however, that energy seemed to have left. Maybe it was what becoming an adult meant? Maybe it happened to anyone who reached a specific age? This thought was strangely painful, and suddenly he missed the time he had been younger.

Sipping his Earl Grey, he looked around the patisserie. He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd been here. Probably the second year of high school. The interior didn't seem to have changed: the same pastel, stripped wallpapers, familiar small pictures of landscapes, and geranium in pots. Ambience remained the same, too: positive atmosphere of a place filled with joy and pleasure. There was nothing upsetting to it; people came here to meet one another and eat some delicious cake. To spend time in a pleasant way...

Today, the patisserie was far from being crowded. An older woman was reading a newspaper by the table by the other window. Two teenage girls, their heads close, were whispering their friendly secrets to each other in the shadowy corner. Outside, the Little Market Square was enjoying its peaceful life. The pigeons were strutting on the flagstones, pecking the crunches from the joints. From time to time, a child ran by, laughing. On the benches, the elder ladies were discussing the important matters.

Josh set to his cheesecake, closing his eyes in delight. Nothing could match the cheesecake from Idealo, after all. In Paris, he had tasted at least several but hadn't found any he would fall for. This one, however, was just perfect: crust was crisp, cheese was not too sweet, and icing melted on the tongue - and he still couldn't say which was the best. Long ago, he had believed that, if he could eat cheesecake every day, he wouldn't need anything else. Now, he wished he could return to those childish daydreams.

The cheesecake was all gone, and he was considering whether he should order another Earl Grey, when a new scent filled the shop. For a while, Josh tried to identify it, although his subconsciousness knew it right away. Someone had ordered mint coffee, taking their place only two tables away. A boy, a bit younger than Josh, immersed himself in a book, occasionally sipping his beverage and never devoting any attention to it.

Josh looked behind the window, but the scent kept irritating his senses and made the memories flood. He hadn't expected - while he should have - that the past would come back to him right after his returning to Idealo. How foolish on his part. He had thought he had left everything behind. In Paris, he could focus on studying and not brood on the past. All and all, he had been doing pretty well - and only sometimes, through soothing words of his reason a voice could be heard, a penetrating whisper that kept saying to him his life was nothing more than a vegetation.

His eyes were stinging, and he blinked a few times. _It must be that mint aroma,_ he told himself.

Mint coffee was a favourite drink of Alain Corail.

He folded his arms and stared at the square, not really seeing it. What he could see was the park surrounding the dorms, where three years ago, in one misty June morning, Alain had left him without a word and disappeared from his life.

Hard to believe it had been so long already. The memory seemed so vivid; he could almost feel all that he'd felt that time.

He hadn't expected it. Or, precisely, he hadn't expected it to be so... _ultimate_; after all, he had predicted their parting all the time. Still, when it had really happened, it'd been so hard to understand or accept it, especially that the circumstances had indicated the opposite, He and Alain should have... At last, they should have...

Anyway, for a few days, he had dwelled in some daze, with his mind refusing any attempt to comprehend what had occurred. He'd been restless and filled with chaotic emotions. And hopes. He'd still believed it'd been not for ever, not for good - although his reason would keep whispering to him that he should accept the reality... That what he'd assumed all the time, what he'd feared all the time... had really happened.

Nevertheless, Alain had disappeared. He had left Idealo, and had been not heard of any more. He hadn't returned, and Josh, reluctantly, had had to accept the fact his dreams would remain only dreams, the ones he couldn't fulfil. Of course it'd been painful, but somehow he'd managed. After all, he'd been prepared. He'd had to go on, even if sometimes it would seem impossible. Occasionally, Erwin would give him strange look... and say nothing, for Josh had put him off, along with his desire to help and support him. Having nothing else, he had focused on studying, and his marks had improved drastically - and only mathematics had been no good. It'd been quite a view - his marks in the end of his third year: a row of the best possible grades separated with a lowest sufficient in maths. At the beginning of his fourth year, his form tutor had asked him for a talk, which Josh had left appointed for private maths tutition. The teacher had said Josh could apply for university scholarship, but he'd had to lift his grade on this one subject, which shouldn't be a problem for him - although Josh had no longer believed it himself. Still, when June had arrived, he had been astonished to collect his final certificate - along with the pass to the best university in the country.

He couldn't relish it as much as anyone in his place would, but deep in his heart he'd had the feeling he'd somehow managed - and maybe something good could still happen to him.

During summer vacation - his last vacation in Saint Grollo - he'd started to hear the rumours about Alain's return to Idealo. He'd taken them calmly. Indifferently. Alain Corail had been a closed book - or, rather, a chapter, for he had taken only a moment and quickly disappeared. Josh's heart had been broken but managed to heal already. How they say, 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger'. Even if he'd stopped laughing and had rarely smiled, he'd been alive. Alain Corail couldn't hurt him more than he'd already had.

Now that he recollected those beliefs, he wondered how he could be so naive.

Alain had returned to Idealo, and the reputation he'd quickly gained had bested even that of his high school time. The main context his name had been spoken in has been: alcohol, women and fights. Of course, the town would have much important matters to attend than a single delinquent, but for some reason the dorms had been _living_ with that issue, and Josh would run across it all the time, whether he'd wish it or not. Whenever someone had mentioned Alain, he would fall silent or leave and try to occupy his mind with something useful. He'd believed he'd been pretty fine. He'd almost felt as if Alain Corail had been a stranger to him.

Until that day...

* * *

It was the beginning of August. The summer had been spoiling people of Idealo - except for the farmers, who complained about the drought - and every day was sunny and hot. Like always during summer vacation, there was not so many people in the dorms, and thus only one canteen was operating, the one in the fourth-years' wing. Josh went down for lunch, wondering about Erwin's sudden call the previous day and his promise to stop by today around noon. Which meant soon...

In the hall, a group of students discussed some matter, and with enthusiasm. Then, however, excited whispers suddenly ceased, and, when he looked up, he saw a few pairs of eyes fixed on him. He frowned, trying to drive away a sudden anxiety. After all, he had no reason to feel anxious. "What is it?" he asked as the boys kept staring at him.

They lowered they gazes; some moved away as if they wanted to leave, but Josh could see they were still observing the scene. One of the students offered a newspaper to him. "The last but one page," he said, and it seemed to Josh that his voice was a mixture of sympathy and excitation. "Down, to the right."

Josh took the local paper in his trembling hands - he didn't know himself why they were trembling - and found the page. Ads and Announcements. Down to the right...?

He felt the blood rushing from his head when his eyes picked up the familiar name. _On Sunday, August 24th... in the Cathedral Church... Alain Corail shall marry..._

The paper slipped from his fingers and fell on the floor. He felt as if someone had just hit him. He staggered. The room vanished from his sight, along with people filling it. For a moment, he was absolutely sure he would faint - or he already had. He didn't even thought he was making a spectacle.

"I told you it's true," an excited whisper reached him.

He opened his eyes and blinked. Again, he could see people in front of him, people he didn't really know and whose gazes he couldn't read. He turned and headed for his room, almost blindfold.

"Josh...!"

Someone was calling him - but who could ever call him? It felt as if he was in the world with no-one else.

"Josh...!"

A strong hand grabbed his shoulder when he was going inside his room. He turned around, trying to guess whose face it was, along with those knitted eyebrows and sad eyes behind the glasses, and...

"Erwin..." he rasped when his mind found his friend's name.

"Josh, what's... Damn it, you can't... You've just learned?"

Learned? About what? He thought he had known something but already forgotten, for he didn't want to know... He wanted to forget...

"Josh, are you listening to me?! God, say something. Josh!"

He blinked when Erwin shook him.

"Hurts..." he stuttered.

It hurt. Not his arm. He felt pain he couldn't really identify, spreading across his chest and radiating towards arms and legs, everywhere. Erwin let go of him and was now giving him a terrified look. Hazily, Josh realized Erwin had never looked at him like this before.

"Josh, calm down. I know that nothing I say will help you, but... Damn it!"

The next thing Josh knew he was pressed against Erwin's chest and the strong arms were squashing him in the embrace. Erwin used to hug him like this... but they were no longer kids. They were eighteen, and Josh wasn't a little boy any more... He was almost as tall as Erwin...

"I feel like killing him," Erwin said fiercely, but he sounded more like he was about to cry in the first place. Josh blinked. "But you shouldn't really care about him. You've managed so well so far. You'll bear it, too, right?"

Josh's head ached, as if he wanted to think about something... understand something - and didn't, in the same time. It seemed to him that once he understood it, he would cease existing.

"But, honestly. One day I'll really paste that Alain Corail!"

The world fell to pieces - as did his heart.

Josh freed himself from Erwin's embrace and pushed his friend away.

"Josh...?"

"Leave me alone," he whispered, unable to raise his gaze.

"Josh, I-"

"Please...!" he almost screamed, which didn't go well with a clenched throat.

Erwin's arms fell, and he took one step back. Josh could see his light-coloured trousers and brown shoes that moved backwards onto the corridor carpet. He pushed the door so that they could shut.

He turned to his room, recognizing familiar furniture. The bed and the coverlet. The bookshelf. The desk. The net curtain in the window. Only an hour ago - half an hour, a quarter - he had been here, and he'd been quite happy. Accepting himself and almost believing something good awaited him. Only a moment ago he'd felt he'd let Alain leave his life. Maybe his existence had seemed somewhat empty, but it'd been better this way. Easier.

Now he was sure he'd rather choose that emptiness over pain that was now piercing his chest and taking his breath away.

He was foolish, he was so foolish - and he still loved him. Now he realized that the past two years he had been believing, hoping, waiting... He had never buried his dreams, even though he'd believed he had. Some part of him, unseen to his eyes, had continued to believe that Alain... would... come back...

He couldn't forget the taste of his lips and the touch of his hands.

His knees gave way, and he plunked by the bed, burying his face in the coverlet. His fingers clutched at the thick fabric, but it didn't give any support. He felt he was falling down, into pieces, physically, as the sobs shook his body. He couldn't hold his tears. Never before had he felt so sad, sorry and lonely... Not when the patron had left in order to get married. Not when he had learned that the gym teacher had been caught in the act with a teenage girl and sacked right away...

He was weeping like he'd never wept in his eighteen years of life - yearning for consolation and knowing he wasn't going to receive it. All people who had the power to hold that little boy he really was in their hands kept disappearing from his life one by one.

* * *

He started, coming back to reality. He could hear people talking, laughter and noise of moving the chairs... He looked around. As he had immersed in reflection, the patisserie had become crowded. Three girls were sitting now by the next table, giving him a curious look. When he looked back, they giggled.

His tea was cold already, but then, right as if on cue, a waitress appeared, a young woman who blushed when he raised his eyes at her. He opened his mouth to order another Earl Grey. "A mint coffee, please," he said, surprising himself.

The girl curtsied and left, while he was blinking in astonishment. Eventually, he sighed and decided he could as well taste it.

He glanced at the watch - it was almost four o'clock. He must have spent quite a while, sitting and staring at his own past. No wonder people started to make fun of him...

That time, in August, Erwin had spent the rest of the day at his door and had been driven out of the dorms in the evening. Josh had learned of it only later - but it wasn't until later that he had been able to appreciate it. The very same week he'd left from Idealo, unable to stay in the town. Erwin and Cecile had seen him to the station, and no sooner than aboard the train Josh had realized he hadn't even given his new address to Erwin. He'd spent those days in a daze, without touch to reality, wishing to run away, change his place and forget everything. In the big, unfamiliar city he'd had a good chance, and he'd made the most of it. In the end, he had never written to Erwin and almost entirely ceased thinking of Idealo, concentrating on studying. In his free time, he'd used to walk, discovering new parts of that maze Paris seemed to his eyes...

The waitress put a mug on his table and blushed again when he thanked her. The girls by the next table murmured in excitement, and their eyes sparkled when he glanced at them. He'd seen such gazes already - in Paris, he had used to meet them all the time. He felt like blushing himself upon the memory of his ordeal in the residence hall... But no, he wasn't going to bother himself with it now.

He lifted the mug to his mouth, focusing on the smell and taste and driving away the unwanted thought. The scent of mint was pleasant, soothing and invigorating at the same time - just like green. He blinked when the recollection of green eyes suddenly popped into his head. He took a mouthful, ready for the bitterness of coffee he had never liked - but the flavour surprised him. The mint note softened the overall impression though, of course, it couldn't attenuate the basic sharpness.

Alain could be repulsive and gentle at the same time, too.

He drank and asked for a bill, that the waitress brought more than eagerly. He went out of the patisserie with a feeling he needed some fresh air. 'Joshua Or,' he told himself firmly, 'he is a married man now, and you will never have him.' It didn't ache, not really. For the last year, he had grown accustomed to the blunt pain in his chest, anaesthetizing for everything else.

The streets were filled with people. The sun was shining with a soft light of afternoon, and the clouds had vanished. Josh walked slowly, his heels clattering on the pavement. It seemed he had gathered enough courage to go where he had to go... He suppressed a sigh but couldn't calm his heart-beat. He didn't know what kind of welcome he would be given, although he suspected he did... Or, at least, he hoped so - and was full of remorse at the same time.

'You are a grown-up man, Josh,' his reason reminded him. 'Where has your courage gone?'

It was a problem, though. Whenever he thought of himself from some years before, he was under the impression he'd used to be much more brave and despised cowardice. He'd used to advance, challenge and win. Maybe he had become wiser? Or maybe it was what becoming an adult meant, too? Because now he'd rather not go when he wasn't welcomed. He didn't exactly withdrew, but he didn't go on a wild-goose chase either.

The streets took him farther from the centre of the town, and he stopped in front of a storeyed house with a small garden behind the pale. He pushed a gate that creaked and soon found himself inside the building. There was a little corridor in there, with stairs in the back, and two doors leading to the flats. He knocked at those to his right and took a step back, breathing fast and waiting.

"You took your time with that delivery!" a young man called with a slight reproach, opening the door, and then he fell silent.

Josh was looking at Erwin, who seemed both different and the same like one year ago. Always taller - although not so much any more - with a mop of brown hair and round glasses on his nose. Josh tried to smile but was too overwhelmed. Erwin, on his part, was staring at him, his face blank.

'He's forgotten. He's forgotten me,' flashed through Josh's mind. He lowered his head, swallowing down his sudden and insufferable disappointment - along with the feeling there was nothing to be surprised about after he had left Erwin without as much as a word.

And then his eyes got wider once he realized - and it filled him with self-contempt - that he had done to Erwin exactly the same thing Alain had done to him. How could he ever treat his only friend this way?

He moved back, involuntarily, ready to go - and come back with an apology one day - when Erwin whispered, "Josh?" and in the next moment Josh found himself in his embrace.

Like in the old days.

Once that constant hugging had used to unnerve him - even though he knew it was the way Erwin expressed his feelings, and those Josh really had appreciated - but now, for the first time, he felt gratitude and only let himself be hugged, resting his head on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered through his clenched throat, rumpling the back of Erwin's shirt.

Erwin released him and only kept looking. It seemed he was fighting the tears, too. "You've lost some weight again," he said in a breaking voice and then wiped his eyes with a sleeve.

"Erwin? Who's that?" Cecile appeared in the hallway.

"Look yourself," Erwin started, but Cecile wasn't looking. She ran up to Josh and embraced him.

The end of the world.

Josh had never expected it would feel so good in woman's arms... Life was full of surprises, wasn't it? He hugged her back, trying to smile.

Cecile let go of him and stood next to Erwin. She was wiping her tears, too. "We worried about you so much..." she spoke shakily, taking one hand up to her lips. "You didn't give a sign... Oh God. I'm so happy to see you."

Josh felt warmth filling him - a sensation that already seemed forgotten. It soothed, a bit, the remorse that were growing bigger every moment. His eyes were stinging, and he blinked to see better. Cecile grabbed his hand and pulled him into the flat, while Erwin closed the door.

Only after a while of blinking Josh was able to have a look at his surroundings. The living-room was warm and cosy, filled with sunlight. The white net-curtains were moving gently, and the colourful flowers in the pots emphasized the bright atmosphere of that household. Or maybe it was his own happiness - the one he hadn't been prepared for because he'd felt for so long as if everything had died in him - made this place so appealing?

"Take off the coat," Cecile asked.

Josh unbuttoned the suit and gave it to Erwin, who took it back to the hallway, and remained in the shirt. Cecile cast a scrutinizing look at him, and then she looked away. "I forgot you're taller than me," she said somewhat embarrassed, showing him a place on the couch which he then took. "And thinner!" she added, this time with irritation.

Erwin stood beside her and tenderly wrapped one arm around her waist. However, she slipped from his embrace and went to the kitchen, her long hair bouncing. Erwin sat down on another couch, opposite to Josh, and was only looking at him. For some time, they simply sat in silence.

"So you've moved in together, after all?" Josh spoke once he was sure he could do it.

Erwin waved a hand. "Not before I promised her father I won't touch her before marriage."

"We're adult already, but my father is a man of principle," came from the kitchen together with the sound of boiling water. "As is Erwin." Cecile's head poked out of the frame, and the girl's voice rang both with affection and frustration.

Erwin blushed slightly and lowered his eyes. A whistle was to be heard, and Cecile disappeared again.

Josh looked around the flat. The previous time he'd been here, it was in pre-renovation state. He cast his mind back... When Erwin had graduated from high school and had been admitted to the local college of education - and, what was not of less importance, had got engaged to Cecile - her parents had invited him to move into the apartment they had long ago bought for their daughter, had she even got married. To tell the truth, they had already treated Erwin as a family member. At first, Erwin had been reluctant to do so, but then he had agreed - on condition that he would be allowed to redecorate and furnish the space with his own money. Now Josh could see the results of his friend's obstinacy - which was excellent. There were bright wallpapers and little pictures on the walls, and the furniture were comfortable and soft. The place was alive and filled with love, and Josh didn't wonder for a second that it was Erwin's and Cecile's home.

It was wonderful to see how they were so in love with each other, and have been for so many years already. Josh stifled a feeling he had no chance for anything similar.

"I'm glad to see you," Erwin said once Josh finished his inspection.

Josh felt warm inside again. He smiled shyly and with gratitude. "I'm glad to see you too," he replied, and then he added quickly, "I'm sorry I didn't contact you."

"You made me worry to death," Erwin retorted frankly.

"Me too," came from the kitchen.

"Cecile, why don't you join us, for instance?" Erwin called into her direction.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Cecile came in with a tray filled with three cups, a teapot and a plate of cookies.

Josh suppressed a sigh. Sweets again.

Cecile put the load on the table and took a place next to Erwin. "Erwin called all residence halls in Paris in order to get know whether you were alive," she said outright, pouring tea into the cups.

A silver spoon Josh had just took, dropped from his hand. His eyes grew wide as he stared at Erwin. He was under the impression his feeling of guilt would crush him.

Erwin gave Cecile a reproaching look and patted her on the arm. "It's all right," he told her. "You really didn't have to say it."

Cecile pouted. "He was insufferable," she added, folding her arms. "Until he learned you were safe and sound."

Josh wondered whether he would be pardoned if he fell to his knees and begged forgiveness. Some of his thoughts must have been reflected in his eyes, for the corners of Erwin's mouth twitched. "You had your reasons," he said gently, although there was some resentment to his words that smile couldn't entirely erase.

"I'm sorry," Josh whispered again, and suddenly he was sure he would spend the rest of his live apologizing.

Erwin waved a hand, then took his cup and started to drink. Cecile pushed the plate of cookies towards Josh. "Not Parisian delicacies, but I hope you'll like them anyway."

"You're kidding? I'm starving. I'd eat anything," Josh blurted out before he thought.

"If you wanted to compliment her, you've failed," Erwin retorted, suppressing a smile, and Josh blushed.

"The dinner's going to be in an hour," Cecile bravely endured both comments and took her cup. "You have to bear with it."

Josh nodded. Did he really have to behave like a dimwit? At this rate, it was pretty sure he would knock something over... He mustered his courage to take his tea; a gentle scent of Darjeeling soothed his senses. He leaned back.

"I suppose they have not only delicacies in Paris, but also pretty girls. Oh, sorry, I meant boys. I bet you've broken some hearts," Cecile threw in, and Josh almost dropped his cup indeed when his hands trembled.

"Cecile!" there was a reproach to Erwin's words, and it seemed the girl took it to heart.

"I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice, lowering her eyes.

But Josh realized he didn't hold it against her. After all, she and Erwin had received him, surrounded him with their love and forgiven everything. He started to feel as if he had returned home. All this when he'd had no place he could call home, for so long now, and he'd lost hope he would ever have.

"I knew you'd come for our wedding," Erwin spoke after a while.

"He's been worrying about it the whole last week," Cecile added.

"I couldn't miss it," Josh answered, sipping his tea.

Erwin and Cecile had engaged a year ago and scheduled their wedding for the first Saturday of the next July, when Cecile would have graduated from her secretary college. Josh knew that, even if he was never to return to Idealo again, this one occasion he couldn't pass up. If there were people he could call friends in his life, these were Erwin and Cecile. He hadn't even thought he could be absent on their Great Day.

"And where's your luggage?" Erwin asked.

"I left it on the station," Josh said, putting the cup down. "I didn't know if-"

"If you could stay in our place?" Erwin guessed. "I'll bash you."

"Bash him for me, too," Cecile added, her eyes sparkling. She moved the plate closer to Josh and poured him more tea, saying, "Eat and drink something, and then you may go fetch them. Once you're back, the dinner will be ready. Now, take some," she encouraged.

Josh decided to calm his stomach before it made some improper noise, and took a handful of biscuits. The smiling faces of Erwin and Cecile got blurred before his eyes as he swallowed emotion along with the cookies. He drank the tea in one gulp and looked at Erwin with, he hoped, enthusiasm.

Erwin's eyes were filled with compassion that quickly vanished when Cecile elbowed him. "Move, Erwin. I'm getting jealous when you stare at each other like this," she called like in the old days.

"And I'm jealous when I look at you two," Josh said and smiled lightly.

Cecile gave him a fazed look and didn't say more. Erwin rose, followed by Josh. Soon, they were making their way toward the station. The street was bathed in the gentle afternoon sunlight. It had cleared up completely; the sky was blue and resembled a perfect dome covering that place, where everyone was happy and no evil existed. The bustle from just an hour ago seemed to recede; the workers had returned to their homes, where well-earned meal awaited them, and the city filled with couples and the urban youngsters in general. Josh couldn't not notice the looks girls and young women cast him, but he ignored them, just like he'd used to do for some time now. He'd got accustomed to it, although he'd been quite surprised at first.

"Right," Erwin spoke suddenly, as if reading his mind. "I've forgotten you've grown to be a beauty."

Shocked, Josh stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his friend in disbelief. Erwin turned around. "No wonder they keep ogling," he added. "If I were a girl, I'd ogle too. And if I'd prefer the guys-"

"Stop it," Josh said faintly as he resumed walking. "It's not funny."

"I'm not joking," Erwin's voice was serious. "Now I can see it clearly. You look fabulous, Josh."

Josh lowered his head. Never before had he heard something like this from Erwin, and he didn't know how to react.

"Those dark hair and light eyes..." Erwin kept talking, and Josh wondered whether he wanted to hear it at all. "I'm sure you've already broken hearts of most girls in Idealo, and the rest of them is thinking how they can get you. In Paris, I bet you couldn't get rid of a crowd of admirers?"

Involuntarily, Josh clenched his fists, and then he relaxed them slowly. A crowd of admirers, indeed... He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to touch on the topics related to his personal... his emotional life. But it was Erwin - a friend he'd had no secrets from.

"In the dorms, I had to bolt the door at nights," he whispered finally. "And I was almost dragged to the broom cupboard. Twice. A female fifth-year medical student and a guy of the second-year of theology," he explained as if it mattered. Erwin said nothing, and Josh noticed he frowned. "I was shocked," he dared to go on, for he knew Erwin wouldn't laugh at him, especially that it wasn't anything to laugh about. "At first. Then I got used to it. I just had to be careful. And have a bag of books with me all the time. In fact... I started to wonder why I'd been left in peace _here_." Erwin kept silent, so Josh continued, "I decided that there, in the North, my looks might seem... exotic. They have more blondes there, so maybe I just stick out." _Even if I didn't want to,_ he thought.

Erwin cast him an intent look and kept walking. "But you can see for yourself the impression you're making _now_," he said after a while. "Here. Girls are goggling at you. I bet guys too," he added, looking at Josh again, and then averted his eyes. "It's just that... In the dorms... No-one dared to get close to you."

Josh looked back at him, confused. A car passed them, honking at the children that were running along the pavement. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Erwin folded his arms. "Everyone thought you belonged to A- Ah, for God's sake!" he exclaimed when two rollicking kids bumped into him from behind.

Josh stopped, stupefied. Erwin returned the children to their mother, who kept apologizing to him.

"What was I... Ah. Well, everyone thought you were his boyfriend. Of course no-one wished to fall foul of him. And later... Later you seemed as if you were about to fall into pieces the very moment someone approached you." Josh couldn't utter a word and only stared at Erwin, his eyes wide open. Erwin cast him a look. "To tell the truth, you still do."

"I'm sorry," Josh whispered, lowering his head. He hoped Erwin would change the topic, but it appeared futile.

"You look as if you're about to fall into pieces! I've never thought I'd... live to see the day Joshua Or would apologize for being alive," suddenly Erwin was agitated.

Josh resumed walking again, trying to overcome the chaos filling him. "Apparently, only normal guys have a chance for ha- for normal life," he said quietly.

Erwin grabbed him by the arm and turned him sharply. "You can't possibly believe what you've just said," he called enraged.

Josh looked away; he didn't want to see anger in Erwin's eyes, much less pity. In fact, he'd been convincing himself about what he'd just said. He thought he'd stop suffering once he convinced himself completely. He freed himself from Erwin's grasp and started walking.

"You care about me too much," he said when his throat relaxed again. "Everything's all right. I-"

"Damn you, Josh! You're my best friend. Of course I care about you!"

Josh suppressed a sigh. How could he answer to this? After all, Erwin was right; he was right about everything. Josh was naive to believe it would be easy... He mustered all energy he had left - pathetically little - and looked Erwin in the eye, making a determined expression he'd used to wear long ago. He put one hand on his friend's shoulder - a planned, soothing gesture.

"Erwin. You can't possibly think that Joshua Or ever gives up?" he said, modulating his voice to sound like in the old days, and smiled, tilting his head. "Really, I'm all right. You just wait. I'll have an escort on your wedding."

Erwin didn't seem deceived by his little play, but he didn't argue either. Josh felt it would require a lot of effort on his part to keep a smiling face, but... Erwin didn't deserve it. He shouldn't worry about him, especially after he'd spent a whole year worrying. And probably two previous years as well. Josh clenched his fists, wondering where he could get the strength from and quickly deciding he would return to Paris right after the wedding.

The realization he had to leave home he'd found - if only for a short while - wasn't pleasant. Still, he wasn't going to let his egoism hurt the only people that cared about him.

For now... for now he had to convince them there was no need to worry about him. At all cost. He would tell them what they wanted to hear. Like now. He owed them that much.

Escort? Now, that was a good one... For the last year, he'd managed to accept the thought he would spend the rest of his life alone. Well, there surely were worse things in the world. And maybe it wasn't a future he wished for himself, but after two crushes from afar and one not-really-a-romance he'd ceased believing in miracles. Being nineteen years old, Joshua Or was still a virgin and he stopped hoping for this state of affairs to ever change.

In the meantime, they reached the station, where Josh collected his luggage, and headed back home. Erwin insisted on taking the suitcase, so Josh grabbed the other item.

"I'm getting hungry," Erwin spoke, changing the subject. "Maybe Cecile isn't the best cook in the world, but she applies herself to it. Her meals are getting better, so you can praise her."

"I'll remember to do it."

"You can ask her about her diploma, too. She will be thrilled to show it to you," Erwin prompted. "She graduated with first-class honours," he added, and his voice rang with a proud. "She's already got a job, too!"

"That's great."

"For all her romanticism, she is a very practical person. She says she isn't going to be a homebody but an emancipated woman... though I still don't know what she meant by it, precisely. She plans to start once we're back from our honeymoon." Erwin's cheeks covered with a blush.

"Where are you going?" Josh inquired.

"The south coast. I do hope she will show her romantic side," Erwin muttered.

Josh mercifully passed over the matters of romanticism in silence and instead focused on aforementioned Cecile's virtues. "Really, that's praiseworthy... To think I didn't consider her particularly clever at first..." he said, grinning. Erwin looked askance at him. "After all, she became your girlfriend," he added.

Erwin dabbed him but didn't seem offended. "Then, we're well matched," he grinned, "for I did pretty well myself, covering two-years material in just one."

Josh smiled wider. "Your appearance of an intellectual stands for something," he said. "How are your studies anyway?"

Erwin shrugged. "A bit harder and definitely more interesting than in high school. I really like it."

"And you're going to work at school?" Josh asked.

"With the youngest years. Cecile gets all dreamy and says I'll know how to handle children even before I become a father."

Josh choked. The world must have turned upside down if Erwin Argue used a word 'father' in relation to himself... No, such things simply happened when one became an adult. He tilted his head to look at his friend and noticed a slight blush covering his cheeks. "Well, you've always liked children," he said hesitantly.

Erwin only nodded, apparently unable to speak. Josh fixed his eyes on the pavement. Children. For him, children had always been an abstract, and he'd never bothered to think about them. Now, however, he caught himself wondering what Erwin's and Cecile's children would be like... Brown-haired, like them... And glassed...

He burst out laughing. Erwin cast him an apprehensive look, but Josh only waved his hand. They would surely have a lot of them. Somehow, it fitted Erwin. "I think you'll be a wonderful dad," he said, turning to his friend and looking him in the eye. He was absolutely sure of that.

Erwin looked back thankfully. Josh felt lighter at heart.

Entering the apartment by the Azalea Street and sniffing the delicious smell of Cecile's dishes, he thought with a careful optimism that he might succeed in not spoiling his friends' happiness.

* * *

_All this hurt the little angel too much - "Särkynyt enkeli", Yö_


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**  
_**(mun sydämellä on kypärä)**_

* * *

Josh opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while. He didn't know it. He was in some unfamiliar place... which didn't seem unfamiliar at all. Then he turned his head, spotted geranium in the pot and remembered his location right away. The room was filled with the bright light of morning. He grabbed his watch - it was almost nine o'clock. He must have been very tired to sleep so long, even though he had gone to bed pretty early. On the other hand, recently he felt sleepy for the most part, but regardless of how long he slept at night, he never felt rested in the daytime...

He wondered what it was that had waked him. The door was ajar - he hadn't closed it as Erwin's and Cecile's cat had decided to accompany him in the night. It must have left for breakfast some time ago... Josh got up and headed for the bathroom. The cat passed him in the corridor, its green eyes flashing in the shadow. The hosts were nowhere to be seen, but the noises from inside the flat indicated they were both at home.

The apartment had appeared to be quite big and very cosy. The small hallway leaded from the entrance to the bright living-room, which posed the central part. To the right, there was little room whose window looked to the Azalea Street. To the left was the kitchen, where one could eat meals in less formal manner. Behind the kitchen was a corridor leading to three rooms: the bedroom, guest-room and bathroom.

Josh looked around and, upon seeing a lot of books and a wardrobe, realized it had to be Erwin's room, temporarily turned into a guest-room. Erwin and Cecile apparently had separate bedrooms in order not to tempt fate... Then, where could Erwin sleep now? Ah, probably in that little front room; there was a couch, too. Cecile obviously occupied 'the bedroom'. Josh hoped he didn't inconvenience his friends too much... Maybe he should suggest he would sleep on the couch? The next moment he decided he knew what would be the hosts' reaction and resigned. In relation to him his friends were strangely obstinate. He smiled lightly at the thought.

His morning toilette finished, Josh made his way towards the kitchen, where sounds of normal morning activity came from. He was about to knock on the door when the cat slipped out from behind it and then jumped onto the windowsill, never honouring him with a glance. He could hear Erwin's and Cecile's conversation more clearly now, and its topic made him postpone the knocking until later.

"... that you didn't tell him!" Cecile said, somewhat disappointed.

"I couldn't. And I'm not going to anyway," Erwin tried to speak calmly, but there was agitation in his word.

"You're heartless."

"He said everything is okay."

"You couldn't possibly believe him? You've seen him. If not for his eyes, I would have never recognized him. He's changed so much..."

"He deserves some peace at last. Fond hope will only make him suffer."

"Trust him!"

"I'm his friend. I have to take care of him, whether he likes it or not."

"Don't treat him like a kid, Erwin! He's a grown up man now!"

"Being grown up has nothing to do with it."

"Why are you so bent on not letting him a chance to be happy?"

"Because I'm a realist. That man has hurt him once, and there's no guarantee he won't do it again. You're too much of a romantic, Cecile."

"Let me remind you, Erwin Argue, we wouldn't even be here if it was not for me being a romantic."

The silence fell, and Josh felt dizzy. Erwin and Cecile were talking about _him_... They were _arguing_ because of _him_! What could it be about? Cecile was of the opinion Erwin should have told him something, while Erwin believed quite the contrary. At first, Josh thought he didn't like the fact they were hiding something from him, but then he concluded it could be better that way.

'Coward,' he told himself - and he didn't come up with any retort.

Eventually, he knocked on the door and entered. Erwin and Cecile turned their faces to him, both looking somewhat guilty.

"Good morning," he said shyly. "I couldn't not hear your talking..."

"I hope we didn't wake you?" Erwin rushed to apologize.

Josh shook his head. "I've already got up," he reassured his friend.

Cecile observed him closely for a while, but then she turned back to put a kettle on the gas stove, frowning and clearly displeased. "Breakfast will be ready in a moment," she said. "Sit down. Are fried eggs okay?"

"I love eggs," Josh answered truthfully.

In fact, he would eat anything she prepared. In the residence hall he had to make meals himself - except for lunch, of course - and everything tasted the same. It was quite another thing to eat a meal prepared by someone else... He sat down by the small table and stared at his hands, having no courage to ask what they had been talking about earlier.

"Is it just me, or have you lost some weight since the last time we saw each other?" Cecile asked casually, busy with his breakfast. "Do you remember to eat properly in Paris?"

"I..." he started - and paused, not really knowing how he should answer.

"I suppose you have a lot of classes... But don't forget, 'A sound mind in a sound body,' she kept talking, her tone akin to that of a mother. "Breakfast is the most important. You used to eat for two when in the dorms, that's what Erwin told me. Or, maybe, it's just your metabolism? That you eat a lot and lose weight anyway?"

Josh remained silent - as did Erwin, who kept staring at him, his brows knitted. He tried to smile. "It's probably as you say," he replied finally. "Well, it's normal that you don't eat regularly when at university. It often depends on your timetable. Sometimes you have no lunch break, but some other time you may pop out to the nearby restaurant. I am a fan of their sausages. And those baguettes... I'm telling you, delicious," he tried to sound enthusiastic. And then he asked himself why it was that he had to lie to them.

"I bet they have good pastries, too," Erwin joined the conversation. "You've always had a sweet tooth."

Josh didn't even blink when a sign of _Shelly_ flashed before his eyes. "But they are no match for local ones," he replied.

"Croissants with pudding are Cecile's speciality," Erwin suggested, casting his fiancée a timid look. "While we're at this, it's been a while since we ate them..."

"You're a parasite, Erwin Argue," Cecile replied, pouring hot water on the tea. "But I'll bake some for Josh. It seemed he had no-one to look after him," she added negligently.

Josh cringed.

"Cecile..." Erwin started.

"No, Erwin. Cecile's right," Josh interrupted him and then turned to the girl, "But you know, university student isn't exactly the age you need to be looked after any more."

"Oh, Erwin doesn't see his studying a problem," Cecile threw lightly, but then her voice softened, "But I think myself that everyone needs some care, regardless of their age." She turned to him. "And I wonder when you, Josh, are going to find someone to look after you."

Josh twitched. Suddenly, he felt an irrational urge to leave. "Me? I suppose... in due time," he replied, averting her eyes.

He tucked a strand of his hair behind one ear and fixed his gaze on the tablecloth, feeling more and more uneasy when no-one was saying anything. The pan sizzled, and Cecile took the eggs from the heat. The next moment a tray with breakfast was placed before him. Rolls, eggs, butter and jam. And a teapot with Earl Grey.

Cecile's hands were trembling. Hesitantly, he raised his eyes on her and, with pang of guilt, saw tears in hers. She turned around. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why?" he asked dully. It was him who felt guilty here.

"Josh, what has happened to you?" she asked in a strangled voice, still turned from him.

Josh stared at the plate. Suddenly, he'd lost his appetite. "To me? What do you mean?" he tried to sound cheerful and failed miserably.

Cecile looked at him over her shoulder and then sat down facing him. Her eyes were glistening. He tried to withstand her gaze, even though all he wished in that moment was to stare at his own hands.

"When we met, I thought you were... a rascal," she said. "You wouldn't stay still, and you were... absolutely insufferable." She tried to smile. "But it was your charm. You had biting tongue, could pick anyone to pieces, fought tooth and nail, and never, ever, gave up. And we are so alike. Maybe that's why we teased each other all the time, don't you think?" Now her smile reached he eyes, and Josh almost felt like smiling back. "It wasn't so long ago, remember? But now... Now you seem a stranger to me. I have a feeling that when I blow at you, you're going to fall over. You're but a shadow of your former self... When I look at you, I'm close to tears."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He felt very bad.

Cecile shook her head. "Really, what has happened to you? Where has that vim and vigour of yours gone? That constant advancing? That courage to fulfil your dreams?"

Josh looked at the eggs and took a fork. "Maybe I simply grew up?" he said. "Grew out of the childish daydreams and stopped chasing an illusion?"

"Dreams aren't illusions," Cecile objected, straightening on her stool. "And who said that being a grown up is boring? Look at us," she stood up and cast a glance at Erwin. "We're still love-struck like a pair of teens, and that's because of our dreams."

"Apparently, you were lucky," Josh muttered, picking at his eggs.

"We were. But you know very well we had to help our luck a bit, too!" she raised her voice.

"Cecile..." came from Erwin's side.

Josh froze and blinked a couple of times. All of the sudden, he felt he was getting angry. "Are you saying I didn't try enough?" he asked quietly. "That I didn't help my luck? You have no idea how much I tried!" He put down the fork and looked up at her. "But you know, with two guys it's not so easy like with a guy and a girl! Do you understand it? Maybe in your case it was love at first sight, or maybe you did have to put some effort in order to be together. But in your case it was more or less _natural_!" now he was almost shouting. "While I am... a freak who cannot but fancy _normal_ guys! Guys who are now living happily with their women! Don't blame me for not wanting to go through something like this again!"

He didn't even notice he'd got up. He was breathing fast, and his cheeks were burning. He just couldn't listen to that... Maybe he had turned out to be a loser, but he couldn't listen the accusations he hadn't done anything...!

In the same time he was ashamed of such an outburst. He had just arrived here, and he was already squabbling and couldn't behave normally. He wanted to apologize, but his throat was clenching. So he only stood, fixing his eyes on his breakfast again and unable to really see it. He felt like a complete ingrate.

However, when he dared to look at Cecile, he realized she didn't seem hurt or offended. Quite the contrary, it seemed to him she was pretty satisfied. A smirk on her lips, she said, "What if I told you Alain Corail has never got married in the first place?"

In the silence that fell Erwin's sigh was very loud.

Josh blinked, unable to move. Unable to think anything.

"Cecile, why-" Erwin started.

"You will be quiet," his fiancée silenced him. "I haven't heard anything sensible from you so far."

Slowly, Josh sat down, trying to bring under control the chaotic emotions filling him. When the first shock was gone and he was able to think again, he felt anger boiling over in him. Erwin hadn't told him something like this? He had kept silent for a whole year? Why? How could he...

He clutched his fingers on the knife, and then he relaxed them. That anger... It was so childish. Reaction of a little boy who wasn't told a secret. In fact, there was nothing to be angry about.

He tried to calm down fast beating of his heart. Alain hadn't got married? But he had hurt Josh twice with his decisions, even before that. And he had never given Josh to understand that Josh had been important to him. One kiss didn't mean anything - even if for Josh it meant so much. There was no use building new hopes. Just like he had told Cecile, he didn't want to suffer again.

But, for some reason, his heart wouldn't calm down.

"Do you still love him?" Cecile's voice cut through his thoughts and asked a question he couldn't ask himself. He looked at her and shook his head. He didn't know. "It's all right. Take your time to think about it," she said, pouring him some tea. "But I can see there's still life in you. That's good."

He nodded mechanically. He still couldn't utter a word.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Cecile kept talking. "I didn't want to hurt you. Neither of us want." She moved closer to Erwin, who then put one arm around her shoulder. "But you're already hurt... and it's very hard for us to see you like this. If it were possible, I would give away half of our happiness so that you could be happy," she said helplessly. "But it's like you said: everyone has to find their own happiness. Josh, and... Don't believe that. Don't believe nothing good awaits you. You are a great person, and you deserve to be happy. Right, Erwin?"

Erwin kept silent, and Cecile had to elbow him. "That goes without saying," he spoke, having trouble to check his emotion.

Josh clenched his teeth. He had no courage to look at them. He blinked a few times to dry his eyes, and then he set about eating.

Breakfast tasted much better he'd expected.

* * *

Cecile banished both of them from home since she planned to do some cleaning. Erwin wanted to help her, but she gave him a menacing look and ordered him to disappear from sight. And take Josh with him. Thus, Erwin disappeared along with Josh - to the park.

They were sitting on the bench and staring at frolicking children.

"You must think I'm henpecked already," Erwin spoke with a blush and then added, "I expected you to make such comment yourself..."

Josh was about to lower his head but checked himself. Really, he should start acting normally at last... The thing was that recently 'normally' meant an urge to vanish into thin air or, at least, become invisible.

"I think you've... always been," he said, smiling.

"Ha ha..." Erwin replied but seemed pleased anyway.

Josh realized the happiness of those two didn't get to him like it'd used before. He felt relieved at the thought. If he couldn't be happy himself, then he could at least enjoy the fact his best friends were. That they had found each other, and they kept nurturing their love. That they had succeeded.

"So, the wedding is on Saturday?" he made sure.

Erwin nodded. "Though it doesn't really feel like," he admitted.

"Well, one could say you've been married for years, only looking at you," Josh noticed.

Erwin grinned. "Cecile is really great," he said in a soft voice, beaming, and then he ran one hand through his hair. "I'd never expected to find my future wife at the age of fourteen."

"She didn't let you off the hook," Josh agreed. "But... don't you regret it sometimes? You know, it's somewhat eerie, that you're going to spend the rest of your life with the same person... You didn't even try how it would be with someone else.

Erwin shook his head. "I can't imagine myself being with someone else." He looked at him. "And you, Josh? Can you imagine being with someone else than Alain? Oh, I shouldn't have!" he called when Josh lowered his gaze.

Now it was Josh who shook his head, thinking of his answer. Frankly, he had no idea. That time, three years ago... when he'd been young and foolish, he couldn't imagine not being with Alain. Life had revised his dreams. What did he feel now? He'd learned that Alain was still... available. How did it make him feel?

His heart sped, that much he was sure of. Apart from this... he was all at sea.

During the last year... he had been under the impression he'd no longer been alive. That he'd been vegetating day by day. He'd lost all hope, he's lost his... dreams. They brought only suffering. He could no longer imagine himself with someone. He didn't see himself by someone else's side. Maybe he'd lost ability... to feel love.

He blinked.

"Hey, Josh!"

Erwin shook him, his gaze worried. Josh tried to wipe off his face all those emotions that must have appeared on it due to his reflection. He shook his head. "Sorry, I spaced out..."

Erwin took a deep breath, apparently frustrated. It seemed Josh's behaviour annoyed him. Josh wasn't at all surprised. Erwin remembered him... different. Surely it wasn't an easy thing to accept - or simply stand - Josh as he was now. Erwin and Cecile remained the same... while Josh had changed. In Erwin's place, he would be annoyed as well. The problem was what he could do with it.

"Maybe I'll do the talking since you have some difficulties," Erwin suggested somewhat exasperatedly.

Josh refrained from apologizing again. It wouldn't be wise to irritate Erwin more... "Then, tell me... Tell me about... Alain's wedding," he asked in a low voice.

Erwin gave him a searching look and then sighed. "Cecile just _had_ to say it, " he didn't sound contented. "I think you should forget him-"

"Erwin," Josh interrupted him, his voice still soft. "You've always cared about me, and that's something I'm very grateful for, but... But I think you can tell me and not worry. I'm not going to get any funny ideas into my head, the less run to him and hurl myself into his arms."

They were looking each other in the eye now, and this time it was Erwin who broke that contact, as if ashamed.

"Erwin," Josh went on, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You've forgotten how... how much you encouraged me to confess to him. Remember?"

Erwin lowered his head, guilt written all over his face. "I shouldn't have..." he said quietly. "You knew him better, after all. You understood the whole situation better... I'm sorry."

Josh shook his head. "It wasn't your fault," he said with a sigh. Suddenly, he realized he had never told Erwin what had really happened. Erwin had had only the superficial knowledge of the whole thing, remaining unaware of the details. All he had known was that Josh had been madly in love with Alain, doing everything to get close to him. "It wouldn't have worked... regardless of what I did and didn't," he whispered.

He had been right all along... and this time the realization was bitter. He had been right about losing Alain - whether he would have confessed to him or kept his feeling to himself. He hadn't taken into account yet another option: that even if Alain had cared about him... Josh would have lost him anyway.

How could he believe he wasn't cursed? As if the Fates wanted that he was never happy.

Besides... Apparently Alain hadn't cared about him enough, after all. One kiss didn't create any bond. Even if for Josh that bond had been created much earlier.

"Josh..."

He stirred and looked at Erwin with a guilt. He was really hopeless. Just like Erwin had said: he was not good in having this conversation. "Do you remember that week... when the school ended... in second year?"

Erwin nodded. "You were completely distracted and... you kept saying, 'He'll come back,' while I didn't know where that faith was coming from."

Josh clenched his fists on his lap and swallowed. And then he told Erwin about his last night with Alain, on the day of Graduation Ceremony. He remembered that day so clearly... in all details... Funny, as he couldn't remember his last year at all... it had blurred, merged into one, all days so alike... But that particular June day from three years ago... He could see it with superb clarity. As well as two moths preceding it.

"He kissed me, Erwin," he disclosed. "We kissed. He was with me... wanted it," he spoke, feeling the touch of Alain's hand and taste of his lips. "I didn't tell him, but he... wanted... me." He blinked. "But it was likely due to alcohol," he whispered, seeing Erwin again. Erwin looked as if wished to vanish in thin air. "It was just as you had said," Josh continued in a distant voice, aware his words were accusatory. "He did something he wouldn't do when sober. And... he couldn't come to terms with it. That's why he left. I bet he was mortified... and didn't want to have anything to do with my any more. You know... it's not so hard to understand," he finished quietly, lowering his head.

"He hurt you!" Erwin uttered. "You can't just 'understand' it!"

"People hurt one another all the time," Josh replied, his voice emotionless. "It's what life is about. And... Well, if one kiss was so repulsive to him, then all the better... that nothing else happened," he added in a whisper.

Erwin banged his fist against the bench but didn't say anything. He was clearly upset, but he couldn't find words to express it. Josh wondered whether he believed what he had just said himself... or was it that such rationalization was only one form of self-torment.

"In any case... he didn't come back. And the rest is well know," he summed up. "To you, anyway," he qualified, feeling his heart speed up. "How it was with that wedding? I understand it didn't took place...?"

Erwin stared at him for a while, as if still assimilating Josh's story. Then he shook his head and rested against the bench. "If only it 'didn't took place'... It was a scandal. Well, I don't think people expected anything better of him, but it didn't keep them from being excited for a whole month afterwards."

"Then, what happened?" Josh realized he was on tenterhooks.

"Everything was ready. Bride, guests and priest... Everybody was waiting... And Alain didn't show up. One could say, a runaway groom."

Despite his usual stupor, Josh felt he was dumbfounded. "He didn't show up?" he repeated sheepishly. "On his own wedding?"

Erwin nodded, and Josh was surprised to realize his first emotion was, paradoxically, compassion. "And she... that girl... was waiting there?" Erwin nodded again. Josh leaned against the back. "He did it," he whispered. "The same thing he did to me... He ran away. He left her."

"Bastard," Erwin added, although it seemed he did it because he felt obliged.

Josh didn't care. Despite everything, he tried to imagine how that girl must have felt - a person he didn't even know... whom he should hate... Maybe... maybe she had been in love with Alain? While he had left her...! Josh felt dizzy. Oh, he could identify with her situation very well... After all, he'd gone through it himself. Maybe not to such an extent, and definitely not in the presence of witnesses – a _wedding!_ - but still. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.

"Why did he do it?" he asked, more himself than anyone else.

"I guess he's just so," came from Erwin's side. "He's not good at relationships. He fears obligations."

Josh felt a pang in his chest. It made sense. He knew pretty well that Alain was quite a distrustful person with a low self-esteem. It was never a good combination. Apart from this, Alain always feared to lose his important persons. Just like... just like him.

Josh realized - or maybe he'd known it all along - he couldn't despise Alain. After all what Alain had done to him and hurt him... The wish for Alain to be happy was still there.

But it was quite another thing whether he still loved him. He thought he didn't... He felt empty inside. It was like he'd told Erwin: he didn't intend to run to Alain. In the first place, he didn't know how Alain would react upon seeing him.

It was likely he didn't even remember him.

He swallowed, realizing he'd ignored Erwin once more. He turned to his friend, but Erwin was in his thoughts too. Troubled. Josh wanted to tell him not to worry so much... but he knew how Erwin would respond. Warmth filled him again. Erwin was his friend. The only he'd ever had. A real and best the friend one could ever have. And maybe Josh wished the life to give him more... but he couldn't not appreciate Erwin's existence. He was full of remorse at the thought he had been neglecting him for a whole year. He'd been so selfish... And Erwin still cared about him.

Josh drove away an absurd thought he wished he could be happy just for Erwin's sake.

He looked ahead. Children ran on the park alleys, chasing the pigeons, and their mothers talked to each other. Older couples walked slowly; the younger had yet to show up... Everyone seemed to enjoy the beginning of the summer and the calm it brought along. The day was sunny and warm; the holiday had already started. It seemed there was nothing evil in the world and everything was bright and cheerful.

Josh thought he'd like to once again experience that feeling of optimism that had used to accompany him before... that belief everything would be all right.

He straightened on the bench and turned his face to the sun, closing his eyes and listening to the beating of his heart, that hadn't slowed down even for one moment during his talk with Erwin.

* * *

_My heart wears a helmet - "Mun sydämellä on kypärä", Samuli Edelmann_


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**  
_**(the moment had arrived for killing the past and coming back to life)**_

* * *

Josh spent the rest of the week helping Erwin and Cecile with their wedding preparation - and on reflection. Erwin was too busy for any longer conversation, which was convenient for Josh. He had enough work with figuring out his feelings, and for that he needed some time alone. Oh, he did accompany Erwin whenever his friend ran errands, but the subjects they touched used to concern the upcoming ceremony, guests, Cecile's relatives, Erwin's relatives, honeymoon... and so on. Whenever Erwin wanted to talk about _his_ issues, Josh politely gave him understand that he wouldn't have it.

He was doing it again: shutting Erwin out of himself and his problems.

But, he tried to justify himself, this time he really had a reason.

_As if you haven't told yourself the same thing before,_ his reason reminded him.

In any case, they didn't have many occasions; they were more and more busy. Cleaning, packing, consulting Cecile's parents... At one point, Josh became anxious that he was imposing on the couple by taking up their living space, which resulted in Erwin's threatening to bash him any moment and Cecile's calling from the kitchen to do it twofold. Josh felt warmth filling him and thought perhaps it wasn't impossible to remember again how it was to smile normally.

For the first time it occurred to him that it might have been a mistake on his part: to distance himself from his friends for an entire year.

Now he was under the impression he could succeed in regaining his balance. Maybe this balance wouldn't be the same it had used to be, and maybe he would still miss something... But maybe he would somehow manage to turn his life... into living again.

Still, he knew it would not happen just like that. That last year - three of them? - had torn down too much in him so that it could be rebuilt immediately. He had to be patient... Well, he had learned it, long ago, and could still remember in what circumstances. Now he didn't have a goal he could pursue - unless he considered striving to regain his inner calm as such.

'Do you still love him?' Cecile had asked him.

He wondered what she really expected him to do. Did she hope he would run to Alain, their love would be revived as if nothing bad had ever happened to it... and everything would end happily? He didn't believe she did. She was a romantic, but she didn't lack intellect either. He thought she rather wanted to provoke him into acting. Any acting. Only now he started to realize it was high time he did something with his life, for he couldn't just go on like before. Nothing in Cecile's conduct indicated she was disappointed in Josh's passivity in relation to Alain. Quite the contrary, she seemed pleased, as if she had already accomplished her goal which was arousing Josh from his lethargy. The rest was for him to decide.

On the other hand... He asked himself it he wouldn't be better off not knowing about Alain. After all, what he could do with that knowledge? He no longer knew his heart; he no longer knew himself - how he would act, and feel. If he wanted to pull himself together, he should never, ever, get close to Alain Corail again. Nor to other men, but to Alain particularly. He feared that Cecile's words could give him some hope which - again - would lead him to disaster. It was not what he wished for. It could be a cowardice on his part, but he didn't want to suffer again. He was of the opinion he had already suffered enough for the rest of his life.

Nevertheless, he couldn't quite stop wondering about Alain - where he was, and what he was doing. Erwin might tell him something... but Josh didn't want to ask. Right, forgetting Alain was the only option. Definitely, he should go back to Paris as soon as possible, for here everything made him think of the man. In Paris, he was able to think about other things. Or not to think about anything, like for last year...

However, when Erwin and Cecile suggested that he stayed in Idealo during their honeymoon - to look after their house - for some reason, unclear to himself, he didn't decline. Paris repulsed him, it was dark and cold... while here was sunny and soft. He had lived here for seven years and grown accustomed to this place, to this city. Here, he had experienced a lot of good things. Bad things too, but it didn't matter. Maybe everything made him think of Alain, too, but... maybe he needed it in order to accept the past and move on? Paris would mean running away.

He couldn't stop the obtrusive and reluctant thought that, apparently, they both were inclined to run away.

* * *

On Friday, they left for Erwin's stag party, while Cecile left for hers. Josh didn't feel like participating, but he told himself it was a good opportunity to start getting used to people around after he'd spent last year mostly in his own company and didn't even recognize the members of his university class. They gathered at Erwin's fellow student's place, and Josh was introduced to young intellectual elite of Idealo. He was surprised to see many of _his_ acquaintances - old schoolmates from high school, from Erwin's class. In astonishment, he stared at those young men and realized how much - or maybe not - they had changed. He hadn't seen them only one year, but it seemed to him he remembered them very hazily... bearing in mind their images from the beginning of high school...

The first to catch his eye were, of course, Robert Jade and Georges Saphir. No-one could miss them. They still radiated their affection; Josh had no idea whether it was well-known already but didn't intend to ask. For now, he only looked. Their sight had always amazed him - solo, they were such different persons, but complemented one another perfectly when together - and filled him with some excitement. Josh was sure there was a whole story behind their relationship, the one only they knew. Well, it was quite the opposite in case of him and Alain; _their_ story had finished before it had really begun...

Now, he didn't want to think about Alain here; he was enjoying those two's presence. Never having been particularly close friends, Josh felt somehow connected with them nevertheless, so it was a good thing to see them again. He recognized them at once. Jade looked the same, and only his features were those of a grown up man now. Saphir had grown a few centimetres and was slightly broader in shoulders, but his face was still angelic. However, which was the greatest shock, he was radiating such masculine magnetism and eroticism Josh would never expected of him. His golden hair had darken a bit, and he kept them longer, which made them wave. If he resembled an angel, it was no longer that docile cherub singing glory praise the Lord... Archangel Michael trampling Satan could look like this. What ever they had been doing with Jade if Saphir made such an impression...? Josh stared and stared and didn't have enough... until he had to avert his eyes, for sight of such perfect beauty was hurting him.

On the contrary, he didn't recognize Frederic Argent at all. He remembered him as a little wrangler, even shorter than Josh himself, who had used to follow Saphir everywhere, demanding his attention, and constantly asserted himself. It wasn't until he heard his name called out that Josh realized that tall vigorous man was the future ruler of the region. Freddy, as his friends called him, didn't resemble that spoiled brat he'd used to be and who would jumped up at a pin drop. He was self-assured but not conceited any more; he was bursting with a good mood and optimism, and talking with everyone. Taller than Josh and broader in shoulders, with his silver hair tied at his neck, he seemed to find pleasure in this company - he, who had once considered as his only strength and triumph card his status and hidden behind it in every need.

As for Erwin's school friends Josh hadn't known until now, they made a nice impression but seemed all alike. But what else could be expected of future teachers? He bet they spent their evenings with books - or wives; two or three already were married. Against them, one stuck out like a sore thumb: a tall and well-built, handsome blonde with dark blue eyes who arrived late in order to - as he said himself with a laugh - make an entry. Josh learned that he was a student council president named Guillaume Azur. After his arrival, the atmosphere became even more animated... and even more Josh felt out of place.

However, when the music was turned on and the bottles were opened - Sir Freddy assumed the roles of both barman and waiter, making sure that everyone had enough liquor - Josh stopped worrying. He had already come here, so he could as well spent time nicely. Apparently, it was how men of his age used to enjoy themselves. Sipping his sweet drink, he tried to attune to the mood. Laughter, patting on the back, jokes, records playing music... It wasn't that bad.

The flat was quite cosy and fitted for such a small party. It had its soul. The furniture was old, with many bookshelves, and the photographs in silver frames on the chest of drawers. Josh, who had a weakness for photos, moved closer to have a look, even though he didn't know people they showed. The owner of the apartment seemed a person cherishing the tradition. Maybe Josh had been unfair when judging Erwin's friends? After all, was there anything bad in spending one's evening with a book? He spent it like this, too... But, well, if it had depended on him, he would have definitely done other things. Probably.

No, such reflection wasn't good. He rubbed his forehead and drove away the thought he was doomed to spent the rest of his life alone...

"Long time no see, Joshua," came from behind in that slightly nonchalant tone he'd known and remembered.

He turned to Jade and Saphir - they were of course together, each with a glass and smiling: one gently, the other impishly. "Georges, Robert... Nice to see you," he said, smiling back shyly. "I thought I wouldn't know anyone here. Erwin didn't tell me anything..."

"Georges developed a liking for stag parties," Jade replied, "so we make sure to frequent all of them."

"Robert!" Saphir protested. "It's not true," he turned to Josh. "It's him who likes to party, and now he pins it on me." His way of speaking was familiar to Josh's ears, but his voice was deeper now. It made sense; he'd been a grown up man, after all.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to have mine," Robert muttered under his breath.

Georges gave him an intent look, his face more serious now, but didn't say anything. He knew as much as Josh that it was no use arguing with the facts. Josh was sure now those two would forget him - they had used to, whenever staring at each other like this - but then Georges turned to him again. "How are you, Joshua? I think you study... in Paris?" he asked. Josh nodded. "Do you like it there? Do you feel good there?" the next questions came. "Please, tell us."

For a moment, Josh was silent, trying to figure out Georges' gaze. Open, innocent... but Josh knew him better and didn't fall for it. Georges Saphir was one of the keenest person he'd ever met. But Josh, on his part, knew how to deceive people, too. Never mind he hadn't practised it recently and, to tell the truth, he hadn't been that successful anyway... "The town is surely magnificent," he replied in a tone of an impressed tourist. "Those stone buildings, palaces... And Notre Dame Cathedral! It's absolutely marvellous. If you ask me, it's a wonder of the world," he added, trying to sound convincing. "The University is a work of art on its own. It's enormous yet filled with spirit of tradition," he went on, trying to smile. "But... there're so many people in there. When I returned to Idealo, I realized I had missed the peace of this place."

Georges nodded slowly. "Idealo is exceptional," he agreed. "But what-"

"What about you two? How are you doing?" Josh interrupted him, unwilling to be presented with new questions.

Georges didn't ask them but gave Josh another intent look. "Music studies," he said in a tone that clearly indicated it was not something to bother.

"And in addition to this, he travels the country and play concerts," Robert threw in. "While I am his manager and come with him."

"Really?" Josh was surprised.

"Don't listen to him," Georges replied. "He does come with me... Only no-one really knows for what purpose. As my emotional support perhaps," he added with an irony.

"He said it nicely, didn't he?" Robert pointed out, and Josh couldn't help but laughed.

Those two were truly amazing. Regardless of the passage of time, they seemed to become united more and more. Josh couldn't imagine anything to tear them apart. Then again, in case of him and Alain, it had taken but one gust of wind... No, stop. He'd decided to not think about it. He focused on Georges, who was continuing, "But everything is all right, and no-one asks any questions. After all, Robert is Laurent's brother, and it's Laurent who pays it all..." he kept explaining. "You see, Laurent had become, like, my patron and supports me."

"In more than just one way," Robert muttered, running one hand through his hair. "But I'm not going to complain. All in all, my big brother is okay."

"Are you saying that... Laurent knows... about you?" Josh asked cautiously, quickly putting two and two together.

"Oh, I think he's known all along," Georges said lightly, vaguely waving his hand.

"And... how does he feel about it?" Josh inquired, giving Robert an astonished look.

"You know, he's an artist. They often... consider things in a different way most people do," Robert replied. "Well, he has an affair with Georges' teacher himself, and she could be his mother."

"Robert! They are only friends!" Georges called with indignation.

"Yeah, sure... Anyway, I'm sure he would support us if I ever dared to tell my father what's going on between me and Georges," Robert said somewhat thoughtful.

"Right, right..." Georges supplied, looking at him. "And if your father had anything against, you would run away with me. I've heard it a thousand times."

"Because I would do this."

"But we are elsewhere for most of time anyway," Georges pointed out. "Together."

"Well, yes... But it's a different thing," Robert was sticking to his guns and trying to keep his countenance.

Georges laughed out loud, while Robert pressed his lips together in order to not follow him. Josh stared at them, dazed, trying to ignore the well known feeling of admiration, jealousy and longing. He'd always wished he could talk with another person the way they did, play and juggle with words, and believe all of them were true in the first place. That was his idea of a relationship. But, apparently, some were fit for it while others were not - and he probably belonged to the latter group...

Without warning, Sir Freddy's head appeared between Georges and Robert, and future Count Argent embraced them both from behind. "Now, you two. Why seclude yourselves?" he asked in a pleasant baritone. "Oh, I apologize, I haven't noticed you have a company," he added quickly upon seeing Josh. It seemed he was already quite tipsy; apparently, he identified with his role of a barman too much. "I daresay we haven't been introduced...?"

"Joshua Or," Josh reached to him. "I'm Erwin's friend from Saint Grollo. I was in a neighbouring class," he rushed to explain.

Freddy shook hands with him, smiling warmly. "Frederic Argent, friends call me Freddy. Come and join us. There's no use standing here like a dumped girl..."

"Freddy!" Georges interrupted him. "I think those there are in need of drinks," he said in a firm tone, pointing at the group across the room.

Freddy looked in that direction, focusing his gaze for a while, and then nodded. "You're probably right. Like always," he replied, hugging Georges in affection. "No help, I must go. It was nice to meet you!" he called to Josh and left, swaying only a bit.

"I apologize for him," Georges said, turning to Josh again. "He didn't mean harm..."

"I know," Josh reassured him. "Even if he... was right," he added quietly, lowering his head.

Georges and Robert were silent for a while, but they had to think about _that_. Then, Georges uttered a sigh, expressing both frustration and compassion. Josh raised the glass to his mouth in order not to look at them but couldn't overcome trembling of his hand. Why did it keep upsetting him so much? Why couldn't he just wave it aside? It had been so long already... Almost one year! He felt like being angry with himself but lacked strength. Apparently, being patient was the only solution: to bite his lips and wait until it passed. One day it would surely pass...

Well, it wasn't anything strange that they'd arrive at the topic, especially that it'd been constantly on his mind, too. Apart from himself, those two used to know Alain best. And they had known - that time - about Josh's feelings. Josh supposed that, being... like him, they could sympathize with him a bit and wish him a success in regard to Alain. Even if it wasn't their business.

"I manage," he said after the prolonged silence, trying to believe his own words. "I realized it's high time to leave the past behind."

"Maybe... you should find yourself... someone?" Robert suggested quite shyly. "No, it's stupid..."

"No, why?" Josh replied. "I could start here," he tried to laugh. "So many good-looking guys around..."

He forced himself to raise his eyes. Georges and Robert were giving him unsure looks, Georges clearly struggling inwardly to say something - or left unsaid. Josh didn't know whether he wanted to hear it but was standing here anyway. After all, he had told himself that his return to Idealo could be a good opportunity to distance himself completely from his previous feelings. Science used to call it desensitisation: exposure to an agent in order to reduce the response to it. One day, he had gone to the wrong auditorium and ended in the medical lecture. The topic had sounded interesting to him, so he'd stayed there. You never know when you're going to learn something useful... He shook his head, coming back to the present.

"I still don't know why Alain did it," Georges' quiet words reached him, and his heart raced.

Yes. Desensitization would make it possible that Alain's name no longer evoked any reaction in him.

"I've always known he was a git," Robert stated, but his words lacked their usual sharpness to take him seriously.

Georges put one hand on his shoulder but kept looking at Josh. "I'm sure he would be happy with you," he said, frowning.

"Recently, I've heard I might have not tried enough," Josh replied, shrugging. "Or, maybe, I simply wasn't good enough for him..."

"Don't say that," Georges opposed, frowning even more. "It was all his fault. You're not the one to blame... That's what I think," he added, uncertain, and then shook his head. "Aargh, why does he have to always complicate things?" he called in exasperation.

"Cause he's a git," Robert supplied.

"So is he, fine!" Georges retorted, giving him a frustrated look. "Still, why can't he do something good for himself, for once?" He looked at Josh again. "I feel like giving him a shake. Maybe it would help."

Josh couldn't but smiled. He had felt like doing it, too, many times. However, something in what Georges had said kept nagging him, and he grasped it only after a while. "You talk as if he cared about me but couldn't... couldn't quite... carry out?"

"Of course he cared about you!" Georges called with certainty that surprised Josh. "I didn't see it myself, but Robert told me... you were... always together. If he hadn't cared, he would have been alone. I'm sure he became very attached to you and you were his most important person!"

Josh swallowed. "I don't think so..."

"While he just had to spoil everything!" Georges' indignation was even fiercer.

"Idiot," Robert backed him up, putting one hand on his shoulder.

Georges shook his head, still agitated - and concerned. "If only you would clear it up... I don't know, talk..." he was thinking aloud. "Some time has passed, you're both older, adult..."

Josh wondered whether it had anything to do with it, especially that he didn't feel any older than three years ago. "I suppose he no longer remembers me," he said quietly.

"But he didn't get married in the end," Georges declared in a tone as if it explained everything, but this time Josh couldn't find any logic in his words.

"He probably didn't want to become involved," he suggested, but Georges shook his head so vigorously that his hair bounced.

"I'm sure it wasn't that," he called impatiently. "All the same," he waved his hand, although it wasn't all the same for Josh. "The two of you should meet... I'm sure there's still time-"

"I can't," Josh interrupted him, trying to calm his heart. He didn't want to hear it, after all. "I'm over with Alain. I... don't want to bother myself with him any more." _Just like he didn't want,_ he added in his thoughts.

Georges stared at him in silence. Josh could see Robert's grasp on his shoulder grew tighter, as if in warning - but it didn't stop Georges. "You... no longer love him?" he asked, and there was a slightest tone of surprise in his voice.

Josh hadn't expected that question, and it almost hit him - Georges Saphir didn't use to say such things so bluntly - and then he felt angry. Why did everyone keep asking him this? Why all of them kept trying to make him think about it, while the only thing he wanted - wanted! - was to forget Alain and move on? Maybe because they were happy. When people are happy, they tend to be optimistic about everything. Cecile was happy with Erwin, and Georges was happy with Robert. They didn't want to respect his right to be alone...

To tell the truth, his reason reminded him bitingly, it wasn't any right but a harsh reality, but he preferred to think this way: that it was him who made a choice.

"I..." he started and paused, unsure of what he wanted to say.

"Freddy told me there was a Rosary Circle meeting taking place here," a melodious yet vigorous voice came from behind him, and the next moment someone's arm was wrapped around his shoulder. "So it seems," Guillaume Azur looked at Josh as if he wanted his words confirmed.

"I think it wouldn't harm you to go for the Rosary sometimes," Georges riposted.

"My dear angel, you know I keep away from the Church. There's nothing for me there," Azur stated cheerfully, his arm still friendly hugging Josh, who wondered how he should respond, somewhat dazed. "And what does our little friend think of it?" he asked, looking at him again. His eyes were cornflower blue.

"I... like to visit a church once in a while," Josh replied hesitantly.

Azur winced theatrically. "Nobody's perfect. Though I expected something different of you," he said with a laugh. "I believe you're not from here...?"

"I study in Paris," Josh replied, "but I used to attend to Saint Grollo."

Guillaume smacked his lips in a mixture of respect and mockery. "Paris, the Capital of the Universe... I bet you see us as country cousins...?"

"I haven't-"

"Rest assure we know our ways around in the provinces, too," Guillaume ignored him and kept talking.

Josh couldn't miss the looks Georges and Robert exchanged. Georges opened his mouth and wanted to say something; then, however, he was pulled back by Freddy, who seemed to need his help. Robert followed - he didn't stray from Georges side for a second - and Josh was left alone with very friendly Guillaume Azur, who was still looking at their backs.

"You have to be very lucky to come to a stag party as a couple," he said, and there was neither awe nor jealousy in his voice, only stating a fact. "Don't you think?"

Josh wasn't sure how to respond. "I-"

"Anyway, why bother?' Guillaume didn't wait for his answer. "You better tell me if there are any good-looking men in Paris."

Josh stared at him, now quite shocked. He was sure he hadn't heard it wrong... and such a statement couldn't be understood ambiguously. Did that man speak with anyone so openly about his orientation?

"I didn't pay attention," he replied truthfully.

"What a pity... I should've applied myself to studying in high school. I might've got a scholarship... But, well, I was more interested in another things," Guillaume added with a meaningful smile.

Josh realized the man was still embracing him, but what surprised him more was his own reaction. On one hand, he wanted to move away; on the other hand... he wasn't doing so. He didn't know that person well enough to form any opinion of him although he did find his openness and directness quite strange. He remembered he had used to be so open and direct only a few years ago. Until... Stop. He wasn't going to think about it.

It wasn't unpleasant. He had been alone for so long that he'd forgotten what it meant to be physically close. Before, Erwin would hug him at every possible opportunity... but then it had ended, too. During his stay in Paris, he had completely disaccustomed himself to the presence of anyone - even to the warmth of human body next to him. An absurd thought crossed his mind that it could be the reason why he'd been constantly cold recently...

And now that warmth was there again, thanks to a stranger. He tilted his head to have a look at the man. Guillaume was undoubtedly handsome: his profile indicated defiant character, dark blue eyes were looking somewhat mockingly, and nicely shaped lips could wince ironically any time. His fair hair was wavy, and the tallness made the picture of him perfect. He had a lot of charm, and he knew it. He seemed very self-assured and had nothing against Josh's inspection. He looked back with a flicker in his eyes.

"_Life is like a flower: it blooms only once._ Do you know who said it?" he asked.

Josh shook his head. "I'm sorry... I've always been better at the sciences."

"Really? Scientists are boring..."

"That's funny. I think so about humanists," Josh replied.

Guillaume gave him a keen look. "I knew from the start you have guts," he said, his lips stretching in a smile.

Josh looked back at him. "Still, I'd rather have you stop hugging me. People may think something," he noticed.

"I hope so," Guillaume replied, looking him in the eye, and then let go of him.

Josh felt dizzy and tried to collect his thoughts. A few minutes ago he had been talking to Saphir and Jade, just like he had once used to, wondering about his life and wishing for some peace... And now he was under the impression the world had turned upside down, and he had just noticed it. He blinked some times, but Guillaume was still smiling archly at him.

Either this was his imagination, or that man was simply... hitting on him. What was worse, Josh couldn't decide whether he liked it or not. For now, the best he could do was to evacuate from the range of the man's arms.

"I'm going to look for Erwin," he said and moved to the opposite side of the room. His heart was racing, and he couldn't explain it to himself.

He had to calm down, even if he didn't know what made him feel this way - but he could guess. His cheeks were burning.

'Joshua Or, have you lost your senses?' he asked himself. 'All that talking about searching for balance and avoiding situations that will make you suffer... And then the first guy takes note of you, and you're doing what? Blushing like a high school girl and consider whether you... should do it? Halloo!'

He shook his head. No, surely not. Of course not. He was just surprised, that was all. He took some deep breaths, trying to pacify his heart. He didn't know that man. Only one hour ago he hadn't been aware of his existence. Half an hour ago he hadn't even spoken with him...

Maybe that was why he should inquire after Guillaume Azur: to know who he was dealing with, right? Erwin would certainly fill him in... Unfortunately, Erwin was pretty tight already, which made any sensible talk with him impossible. Josh sighed inwardly, unwilling to acknowledge a feeling of disappointment, and took another glass. He ensconced himself in the passage between rooms and kept observing the tall blonde from afar. Guillaume had already found himself a merry company, but every now and then he would raise his head and cast a look at Josh, his eyes flashing.

Josh realized he wasn't used to such attention. Many years ago he had used to strive for it himself, but that seemed a different time. Now, as a man he didn't know was giving him to understand that he would gladly... Yeah, what exactly? Make Josh's acquaintance? But... what _kind_ of acquaintance? And what he could really expect? It was simply not possible that he had become interested in Josh in _that_ way when they had only met for the first time and didn't know a thing about each other!

Or, maybe... it wasn't impossible? Maybe it was something _normal_?

Should Guillaume's attention flatter him? Should he react to it? If he reacted, what then...? What could he count on? What expect?

Josh caught himself considering and planning in advance, like he used to. He pressed his lips tight upon remembering where his tendency to analysis had taken him last time. If he intended to start his life anew, he should turn off his brain and trust his instincts. And what it was they were saying now?

That Guillaume Azur was a handsome and impressive man. And definitely wasn't repulsive. And he seemed friendly. And when he had been embracing Josh, it hadn't felt bad at all.

Maybe that kind of thinking was _reasonable_?

Josh downed yet another glass, ignoring the buzzing in his head. He felt good. For the first time in a long time, he felt he had a lot of energy. The constant fatigue and despondency had vanished, along with the unceasing wariness and the wish to disappear from others' sight. He felt light; he was under the impression that even his hair lifted. He unbuttoned his shirt at the neck, for it was really hot inside. Honestly, he was nineteen years old, and it was high time for him to grow up. And enjoy his life. After all, he had his vacation.

As they were amusing themselves with sending each other looks across the room - for the mutual interpretation - Josh managed to drink quite much. Well, at least for him, since he used to consume alcohol so rarely that it counted for not at all. He felt so hot he had to go outside and cool off. However, as he was making his way toward the door, an unusual sight drew his attention: Erwin and Sir Freddy were hanging over each other, completely inebriated, and it seemed they were going to collapse any moment. To tell the truth, the majority of those present were more or less drunk, and Josh wondered whether they could still remember where they were and what they were doing here.

In any case, Erwin was going to get married tomorrow, so it would be a good thing if he first made up for this session. Josh looked at the clock: it was almost one. He supposed it to be not a very late time for partying, but Erwin wasn't capable of partying any more. Saphir and Jade had left some time ago - the most sober people - and Josh thought he should go home as well. The room was swaying slightly as he headed for the telephone and then tried to find a number to call for a taxi in the directory. Why those letters had to be so small? He took the book up closer to his eyes, but it didn't help anything: the print only got more blurred. He gasped in exasperation.

"You want to order a pizza?" a mocking voice reached his ear.

He turned his head and focused his gaze on Guillaume. "No, a taxi."

"You're going to bed quite early," the man commented sneeringly.

Josh pointed at Erwin, who had difficulties keeping his eyes open. "I think Erwin has enough," he explained.

Guillaume's eyes swept in that direction. "Oh, you may be right," he agreed. "I forgot Erwin's always the first to get drunk..."

Josh nodded because he no longer trusted his eloquence. Guillaume took out his cell phone and dialled a number. Listening to him, Josh realized he hadn't even known the address of this place. The operator would have a filed day on him... He gave Guillaume a grateful look and left to resuscitate Erwin. It took him a while to entangle his friend from Freddy's arms, but to get him on his feet was beyond his capabilities - Erwin had always been taller and heavier. Yet, Guillaume once more came to his aid. Without difficulty, he set Erwin up, and Josh, willing to be useful, supported the friend from the other side. Erwin was out of touch already, muttering something under his breath, and his expression was exceptionally idiotic.

Guillaume called something akin to goodbye to those remaining on the battlefield, but it seemed most of them were already in their own worlds and their leave passed unnoticed. Not that Josh cared. He tried to match his pace to the taller man; fortunately, they were moving slowly. And, thank goodness, the flat was on the ground floor; he couldn't quite imagine walking down the stairs with Erwin hanging on them like a sack of cement.

They had to wait a little longer for a taxi - it was Friday night, after all. They rested with their load against the fence; Josh welcomed the cooler air with relief. He closed his eyes, trying to overcome a dizziness. He probably was a wimp, but he was already dreaming of a bed. Only a moment ago he felt he could conquer the world, but now he was very tired. He really wasn't used to alcohol. He had better go to sleep... before he did something stupid. He looked aside, at Guillaume, but Erwin's head blocked the view.

He closed his eyes again. A noise of breaking glass and drunken brawl came from the next street. A couple went past them; the silent chuckle of the woman indicated she hadn't been denying herself liquor either. Josh was under the impression the whole world was bouncing. He couldn't collect his thoughts but didn't really have to. Still, he hoped for the taxi to come quickly, for Erwin was really heavy, even though it was Guillaume who took the most of the burden. Josh was really grateful to that tall man who helped him. If not for him, Erwin would spend the night - his last night before wedding - outside home, and Cecile definitely wouldn't be happy about it.

Finally, the car came. They squeezed Erwin into the back seat, and Josh crept there next to him. Guillaume sat in the front and gave the driver the direction, and they set off - only to get there in a moment. Somehow, they managed to haul Erwin to his bed - or, rather, his couch. Cecile had left the door unlocked. _Women think about everything_, Josh thought with a smile.

They went back in the corridor. "Thanks... for help," Josh said, focusing his sight on the man.

Guillaume smiled, and it struck Josh he seemed completely sober. Apparently, he had increased tolerance...

"If you had other problems, I'm at your service," the man replied, and Josh wondered whether it was only him or did that statement sound ambiguously.

Still, he nodded. Guillaume kept looking at him - it seemed to Josh some uncertainty flickered in his eyes - and then he raised one hand to touch his cheek. Josh twitched. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes but opened them right away when Guillaume took one step closer and was already next to him. His fingers slipped in Josh's hair... and it didn't feel bad at all. Quite the contrary, it was pleasant, warm, soft... Josh longed for such gentleness... tenderness... Guillaume cupped his face and leaned down... Josh could feel his breath...

He put both hands against the man chest and moved him away. No. For some reason, he couldn't... not here... not tonight. He gave Guillaume an apologetic look and shook his head slightly. Guillaume ran one hand through his hair and took a deep breath. And then, hesitantly, he kissed Josh on the head.

Josh froze. For a moment... he wanted... maybe they could, after all...

But Guillaume already moved away, his finger tracing Josh's nose and lips in a gesture of goodbye. "I don't like waiting," he said quietly and smiled, but his dark blue eyes were burning with their own flame. Then he nodded and left.

Josh rested against the wall, dead sure his knees would give way any moment.

The world was still spinning.

* * *

_Pink Floyd, "Coming back to life"_


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**  
_**(w najbliższym mieście każę obudzić dzwon)**_

* * *

The first thing Josh noticed when he woke up next morning was impression of being full of energy. It had been long - too long - since the last time he had opened his eyes with a feeling it was... okay. He lay in the warm bed, trying to recollect the events of the previous evening. And night. He was vaguely aware that something worth remembering had happened. It couldn't be about the amount of alcohol he had consumed, considerably exceeding that he had drunk during the whole year. It couldn't be about having spent a few hours partying, either; to tell the truth, it was the first stag party he'd ever participated in. 'And probably the last one,' he thought ironically. He had met some old friends, got to know some new people... And he even didn't have a significant headache.

Today was the Big Day - at least for Erwin. Speaking of which, had Erwin got up already? All in all, he had slept longer than Josh himself, having dropped off in the middle of the party already. Josh was sure his friend remembered nothing of having been transported home by Josh and Guillaume...

Ah.

Josh felt a hot wave creeping onto his face as he remembered his newest acquaintance - and the reason of his good mood. As all pieces were falling into their places, he had a funny feeling in his stomach. If he wasn't mistaken - and he apparently wasn't - Guillaume Azur had given him to understand... in a very direct way, too... he hoped for a more intimate and deeper relation. Slowly, Josh traced his lips, just like Guillaume had done it the last night in the corridor, before taking his leave.

Unexpectedly, yet very welcomely, he felt like smiling.

Memories of the last night were only pleasant. Warm and soft, and they seemed even more... velvety as he was lying here, in the bedding still hot after sleeping. He felt - although it was still too soon to draw such conclusions - as if he had found what he'd always been looking for: tenderness of another person. Or that it had found him.

Oh, surely he wasn't in love with Guillaume Azur, whom he hadn't even known until yesterday. Yet, he couldn't quite deny that... he hoped that... that maybe he had a chance to escape the loneliness to which he had, in a way, condemned himself. To experience some happiness resulting from the presence of another person by his side.

No, he wasn't going to fall in love. Only a few days ago he'd had the impression of no longer being capable of loving. He had been wounded too deeply to trust people just like this. And he definitely wasn't going to chase anyone. However, if Guillaume Azur wished to show the initiative - which he already had - why should Josh reject him? There was nothing wrong with engaging in new friendship - or even brief liaison. Even if, for Josh, it sounded abstract in and of itself.

He stretched himself and smiled, calling Guillaume's sight to mind. A head taller, at least, than Josh. And, it seemed, at least twice as broad in shoulders. No, he was exaggerating, of course - but if the two of them stood side by side, Josh would probably fade in comparison. In fact, Guillaume was quite slender and not excessively muscular; he was... just right. Josh supposed his body to be very athletic, not an ounce of fat on him. In addition, there was those blue eyes and mop of fair hair. Undoubtedly, he was one of the most appealing men Josh had ever met.

A sudden thought crossed his mind, 'Why someone like that took an interest in someone like me?' For a change, he tried to imagine _himself_ in others' eyes, and it wasn't a complimentary opinion. Cecile had said he'd lost some weight, which was probably true. For the last year, he hadn't been eating a lot, nor very eagerly, so he had probably slimmed down indeed. Maybe even the clothes hung loose on him? Dark hair couldn't possibly grace him either, and his eyes of weird colour - yellow! - must have appeared even bigger. No, Josh didn't find himself appealing in the slightest. Then, how come such a stunner like Guillaume Azur had clapped eyes on him?

_Maybe he likes yellow-eyed bones?_ his sense of humour, that seemed to have been sleeping for months, suggested.

'Maybe he does,' he agreed, trying to remember what Guillaume had told him in the first place. That Josh had guts. And that he hoped people thought something about them. And that he didn't like to wait. At the last one, Josh drove away a blush, trying not to think about their parting in the corridor. Or, actually, no. Why should he not think about it? The more he contemplated it, the more he realized it had been quite long since the last time something so nice had happened to him. Damn him, he was nineteen years old, yet all his erotic experience amounted to one kiss. Maybe it was high time to do more with another man, especially that the opportunity seemed to arise? What would have happened last night if Josh had agreed to what Guillaume had clearly desired?

Now, in the morning, lying in the bed, he came to the conclusion that normally would have at least surprised him: that he had nothing against an intimate _tête-à-tête_ with Guillaume Azur. And he had already sobered up, so he couldn't blame alcohol for his such sensation. Maybe some part of him even regretted that last light... But, well, it was no use lamenting. He supposed another opportunity would arrive sooner he could expect, and that thought made him blush again.

The clock in the living-room struck ten, interrupting his reflection. The flat was still silent. He got up, took a quick shower and got dressed. The kitchen was empty, but there were sandwiches prepared, as well as a note left by Cecile. He smiled, reading, 'The first to get up please wake up the other. The wedding won't work without the groom and the best man. See you in the church! PS. Aspirin is in the cabinet, on the upper shelf.' Like always, she thought of everything.

Cecile had left to her parents to prepare for the ceremony. How it went? The groom wasn't allowed to see his bride before they met in church? Josh put on a kettle and took out two mugs, wondering how Cecile would look. Oh, certainly beautiful. He could bet that in the white dress and a veil she would resemble an angel, for she was capable of it, too. Her innocent look would deceive anyone... Josh knew nothing about feminine beauty, and thus he couldn't evaluate her, but they used to say there were no ugly women. And when he thought of Cecile, it was the positive energy she radiated that first came to his mind. In terms of inner beauty, she had no match. Now, after having known her for many years, the thought of Cecile made him smile. To think that they had used to fight all the time... No, it wasn't it; rather, they had used to tease one another. He realized, however, that now Cecile and Erwin were one in his mind; they belonged to each other and were inseparable. He could no longer imagine them apart. And, strangely enough, he had no regrets about it.

Waking Erwin up didn't proceed without difficulties. Erwin, still in the clothing - Josh had only taken his shoes off and covered with a blanket - was sleeping like a log, and it took five minutes to bring him round. Erwin opened his eyes, then closed them again, groaned and pulled the cover over his head.

"I think that, if you're late for your wedding, Cecile won't waste the opportunity and will grab someone from another pew instead," Josh suggested, making Erwin open one eye. "Come on. The sooner you get up, the more time you'll have for curing your hangover," he added mercilessly, pulling the blanket. "It's past ten, and you've slept longer than I anyway. Tea will be in a minute."

Erwin opened the other eye and levered himself up on his elbow. And then he groaned again. "Never let me drink so much," he said faintly.

"Which means?"

Erwin mused, a lost expression on his face. "Don't know," he replied finally. "I can't remember a thing? What was I doing, Josh?"

"Hmm... I'm not sure if you want to know," Josh answered seriously in a sudden inspiration.

Now Erwin was giving him an anxious look. Josh bit his lips. Apparently, it worked, for Erwin seemed to come alive. "Well? Say it!" the bridegroom urged him.

Josh straightened up and looked at him with a faked sternness. "When I came to take you home, you were twisted around Sir Freddy like a passionate lover, confessing your love to him and declaring you'll never marry that hag Cecile," he replied, trying to keep his countenance.

Erwin's eyes got round like saucers. "I... No..."

"Now you see what alcohol makes with a man... Your true nature was revealed, Erwin," Josh went on, nodding sadly. "Poor Cecile, she's not going to be happy when the one you'll take to the altar will be Freddy."

"What...?" Erwin uttered.

"You're lucky. Freddy was very pleased with your advances," Josh kept talking, now enthusiastic. "Just imagine, you're going to be the ruler's wife! No need to graduate or work, for that matter," he continued, for Erwin's expression just called for tease. "But you know, Erwin," he got serious again, "you could have told me... We would be a nice couple. We wasted so many years..."

Erwin sat up in the bed and simply stared for a while. And then he threw a pillow on Josh, who dodged it and burst out laughing.

"Josh, you wretch...! You're making fun of me!"

"Sure I am, silly," Josh replied and flopped onto the armchair, still laughing.

Erwin joined him, but his laugh turned into another moan soon enough. "I need aspirin," he said in a pained voice, clutching his head.

"Come, I can hear water's boiling," Josh said, getting up. "Cecile prepared us sandwiches. I bet there's a salad in the fridge, too."

"For me just tea. Strong tea," Erwin stressed. "No sugar."

Josh nodded. Erwin dragged himself out of bed and went to the bathroom, where he poured water into the tub. Then he returned to the kitchen and sat down by the table. Josh passed him the infused tea - Erwin got down to it at once, despite it still being hot - and sat down opposite to him. For a moment, he just regarded his friend. It seemed Erwin started to realize what day was today.

"And, how do you feel?" Josh asked quietly.

Erwin put the mug down. Holding it with his long fingers, he stared in the distance. Then his gaze focused on Josh. "I don't know," he replied, aware Josh wasn't asking for his physical condition. "I've been waiting for this day for so long, yet now... I can't believe it's really happening."

Josh nodded. He thought he could imagine it. The best about the dreams is waiting for them to be fulfilled - not fulfilling itself. He didn't mean that marrying Cecile wasn't something special to Erwin; surely it was, but... Someone had once said that the happiness wasn't a goal only a path towards it. Now Josh thought it made sense.

"Actually, when did you decide you'd get married?" he asked rather shyly.

Erwin shrugged. "When I want to be romantic, which I rarely do, I say that the moment we met," he said, trying to sound ironic.

However, Josh knew it was true. In case of Erwin and Cecile it was love at the first sight. Cecile had once said that when you could hear a bell ringing upon meeting someone, it was a fated meeting. And it seemed that the bell had rung when the three of them had run into one another for the first time, in the street just outside the walls of Saint Grollo. Suddenly, Josh realized he had been accompanying them - and their affair - right from the start. It filled him with some warmth. If he wanted to be romantic himself - which he used to much more often than Erwin, although not necessarily recently - he would say he had become their Cupid. After all, it was him who had pushed Cecile in Erwin's arms, literally.

"It was... in the junior high school already," he said, thinking aloud.

"Over five years ago," Erwin added, sipping his tea.

Josh mused. Just like with Saphir and Jade, whenever he thought of Erwin and Cecile he couldn't but marvelled at the fact they had been together for so long. As for himself, some time ago he had come the conclusion he wasn't fit for relationship... But, wait, he had decided not to ruminate over it. Especially that he _had_ something good in prospect. He drove away a blush.

"Um, Erwin...?" the opportunity was as good as ever.

"Mhm?"

"That student council president of yours... Guillaume... What can you say about him?" he asked hesitantly.

"Guillaume?" Erwin mused. "Hmm, he's okay. You met him yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yeah... I did. In fact, it was him who helped me to carry you home."

"Oh... Well, he's the type you can count on," Erwin replied in a tone as if it explained everything. Maybe it did. "Anyway... Thanks, Josh. I overdid it..." he added apologetic.

Josh waved his hand. "Come on, you'd do the same for me."

"Sure... Unless I get drunk first, ha ha..."

"Getting back to Guillaume though..." Josh steered the conversation towards the desirable topic. "He seems nice. And I can't deny he's a handsome devil."

Erwin, who had been nodding for a while, now focused his eyes on Josh, giving him the first sharp look that morning. "Josh, you couldn't possibly-"

"On, Erwin. Come on. Don't jump to conclusions based on my single statement."

But Erwin's gaze clearly said he did. And it seemed to Josh he could see some... hope in his friend's eyes. Ah. Erwin certainly wanted to hear that Josh was thinking of someone again. That he had left the past and was looking ahead again. And Josh would gladly tell him so - if he knew it for sure. For now, however... The only he knew was that another man had expressed some interest in him and that maybe he would respond to it. That was all. Maybe he did feel hot at the memory of Guillaume's touch on his face... but nothing more. There was no rupture to it, and it was so different from the past, when a sole thought of beloved person made him feel dizzy and want to embrace the whole world. That was... so immature. Almost silly. Hopelessly romantic.

While there was no place for it in life. At least not in his life.

He realized Erwin was still observing him closely. He shook his head. "Erwin, I really-"

"Has anything happened between the two of you?" Erwin didn't let him finish the hastily made up excuse. "It's not a secret that Guillaume likes... guys. Ah, I should have thought of it earlier."

"Thought of what, Erwin?"

"Of making a match of you two."

Josh blinked. He hadn't expected Erwin to use such an expression. That Erwin felt obliged... well, maybe not exactly obliged... felt some need to... help Josh in _his_ love life? And it had been only a minute ago that Josh had been thinking of the same in the context of himself and Erwin and Cecile. Funny.

"But I see you did well without me."

"Erwin, I really think it's too early to say things like this."

"Josh, no use acting. I can see that spark in your eyes. I haven't seen it in a while. And, believe me, I'm very happy about it," Erwin assured him.

Josh kept silent. It seemed Erwin already had a theory about his relationship with Guillaume. Josh didn't have the heart to put him straight but didn't want to be dishonest either. "Erwin, honestly, we have just met," he said truthfully. "True, Guillaume seems to want a more... intimate relationship with me," he disclosed.

"And how do you feel about it?" Erwin asked outright.

"I... I'm not sure. But it... wouldn't be anything wrong, would it?" Josh said hesitantly.

Erwin was looking at him intently. "No, Josh," he replied finally. "If that's what you want. Like I said, Guillaume is... okay. Or, at least..." He paused.

"At least what?" Josh inquired.

"At least I don't consider him as someone who's going to break your heart," Erwin finished.

Josh felt a well-known pang in the chest. The thought of Alain still pained him, even if he didn't want to think of him. He _should_ think of something pleasant. Maybe that new... affair would cure his melancholy? Maybe Guillaume Azur would help him forget about sadness, help him come back to life? It didn't seem impossible. Maybe Josh would be able to laugh with him and perceive the world in bright colours again?

He nodded. "It's good to know," he said. "But now we should focus on _your_ happiness, Erwin," he added vigorously. "Your bath is waiting."

Erwin nodded and got up. He wasn't groaning any more, so the tea must have worked. He went to the bathroom, never mentioning of aspirin. Josh helped himself to the salad and sandwiches, unable to remember the last time he had been so hungry.

* * *

The day was hot, but it was nicely cool in the church. The sun was coming inside through the high windows, lighting the interior up and imparting glory to the ceremony. Erwin had managed to smarten himself up and was now standing in the front pew and waiting for his bride. In the grey tails he looked very stylish, although his hair was tousled as usual. He seemed a bit nervous but happy as well. People used to say that wedding is the best event in every woman's life, but Josh was sure it was Erwin's case too. Sure, of them three it was Erwin who had his feet firmly on the ground, while Josh and Cecile had their heads in the clouds - but what of it? Today he was entering a new stage in life, and it was important to him as much as it would to anyone in his shoes.

On the opposite site sat Cecile's mother, radiating happiness and shedding tears of joy. She was accompanied by Eugette, Cecile's best friend asked to be her Maid of Honour, and Erwin's mother, whom Josh had met for the first time. Mrs Maria Argue, a frail older lady, was of poor health and didn't leave home, but there was no way she wouldn't be present at her son's wedding. She had an air of serenity and proud to her, and the cobweb of wrinkles around her eyes made her even more beautiful. She seemed a very nice person, although the overall picture of Erwin's family was peculiar at the very least. Josh tried to put together what Erwin had told him. Erwin had one brother, much older than himself and apparently a playboy, who, after a few years of marriage, had abandoned his wife and left home, and was not heard of any more. Erwin had a very vague memory of him, as well as of his father, who had died when he'd been still a little child. Margot had stayed with her mother-in-law, with time becoming her daughter and closest friend and accompanying her when Erwin had left to study in Idealo. Margot was sitting in the nest pew, tall and slender, with her hair pinned up. Her face was shut, even stern, and the look of her grey eyes was penetrating. She didn't seem a person one could easily make friends with, but Josh thought he could understand her. At least, to some extent.

Behind them sat Cecile's numerous cousins, a little too noisy and excited - but they were excused since it was a happy event, after all. Even more backwards were Erwin's and Cecile's friends. Sir Freddy seemed he hadn't yet recovered after the libation, and maybe it was only Josh's imagination that Erwin cast him an alarmed glance. For his part, Josh's heart skipped a beat when his gaze caught the tall figure of Guillaume, who greeted him with a nod and smiled. Josh smiled back and stopped looking around, focusing on his shoes instead. The organist was warming up and preparing his instrument to perform flawlessly in due time.

At long last, as the bell struck three o'clock, the church resounded with powerful music of pipe organ, and Cecile entered, being escorted by her father. Their pace slow, Raymond Perle and his daughter were going down the aisle, and Josh, even from afar, could see both of them were very moved. Cecile's chest was bouncing, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glistened like stars. She was absolutely stunning in her white dress, with hair pinned up and held by a tiara, with a veil trailing behind her. Two youngest of her cousins served as pages, following her now and holding white fabric, serious expressions only children are capable of on their faces. Erwin was looking at her spellbound, and he had all right to be.

Josh couldn't hold back a smile, but suddenly felt he was pretty moved himself. He was under the impression he had only now realized what was happening. No wonder Erwin had been so mixed-up, almost scared, in the morning. The church, sound of organ, flowers - all that contributed to the solemn atmosphere. And maybe Josh would never experience it himself - ah, he _would_ never experience - but now he was so close to it as possible. He was next to his best friend and could almost touch his happiness. Mrs Perle was still sobbing, Mrs Argue appeared to be fighting the tears, Eugette was smiling warmly, and even Margot's expression softened. Amidst that all, Erwin was standing erect and looking at his bride, who in turn looked at him, and it seemed that the world ceased existing for the two of them.

Finally, Mr Perle 'gave' his daughter to the groom - Josh saw the last grip of Cecile's hand on her father's arm - and the couple approached the altar, with Josh and Eugette behind their backs. The organ played the closing chord, and then fell silence, still vibrating with sound. The ceremony started.

Josh didn't know how long it lasted. The priest was speaking, asking and being answered. Erwin and Cecile exchanged their vows. The Maid of Honour and the Best Man witnessed. The organist occasionally accentuated those significant declarations with music. The sun slowly moved over the altar, and one could see the particles of dust in the air. The atmosphere of joy - so pure it seemed holy - filled the church to the rim.

And then it was all over. The newly-weds kissed, hidden behind the veil from the curious looks, _Wedding March_ resounded and they left to the church square to be showered with congratulations and wishes, embraces and tears of joy. Josh was first to hug Erwin, as tight as he could, and only with this gesture trying to convey his feeling, for his throat was clenched, but it was fine as Erwin was unable to utter a word, too. He was so happy... He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy; he hadn't expected he was still able to. Then he hugged Cecile, who hugged him back, her eyes glistening, her lips trembling... Never before had she looked so beautiful. And then she disappeared in the arms of her mother, father, mother-in-low and friends. Just like Erwin. Laughter, breaking voices, unfinished sentences, shaking hands, slapping on the backs... Guillaume appeared next to Josh, effusive as ever. Josh felt dizzy, but it was such a positive dizziness. The faces of people seemed all friendly, all of them suddenly familiar and welcoming. The warm light of afternoon was soothing the outlines, and one could be under the delusion there was no evil in the world.

The wedding party was held in the inn outside the town. Mr Perle spared no expense when his only daughter - his only child - was concerned. He had paid for transportation of guests, too. The feast awaiting them truly suited a princess; Josh had never seen such abundance of dishes and desserts. He let himself be carried away by the festivity, laughed and ate, drank wine and danced with Eugette, Cecile's cousins and even - when it got late and most of guests were tight already - with Guillaume, who didn't leave his side.

The man's gaze was getting even more intense, and Josh was answering it even more daringly. He couldn't resist the impression he was vibrating all over. It was likely that newly-weds weren't the only ones to lost their virginity tonight, he thought absurdly... The party was still on, but Josh supposed that the real feast would start when they were finally one-to-one, a feast for the two of them. Josh was looking forward to it - and growing impatient...

When late in the evening Erwin, this time careful with alcohol, took him aside, they hugged once more.

"Josh... You can't imagine how happy I am," Erwin said, flushed. "I'd like... If only I could share this happiness with you."

Josh shook his head. "Don't worry about me. Think of yourself. And Cecile," he replied. "It's your day. Erwin, I'm so glad. Really... I didn't expect it to be so fantastic," he said, still excited.

"Use our house however you want. Please, stay until we're back. We haven't seen each other in a while... And you're going to go back to Paris soon, too," Erwin's voice broke. "We want to spend more time with you."

Josh felt like exploding from the warmth filling him. "For now, you have to enjoy yourselves. I'll stay, I promise. We'll see again once you're back," he promised.

"And... Josh," Erwin apparently wasn't finished. "If it's going to work out with Guillaume, then... it's good. You deserve it, more than anyone," he said in a low voice.

"Erwin, I can't imagine having better friend than you," Josh replied, blinking, for his eyes were stinging.

They embraced again, this time staying longer like that and taking pleasure in each other's presence.

"Erwin, Josh! I don't believe my eyes!" Cecile stood in the doorway, pointing at them accusingly, but the corners of her lips were twitching, and her faked indignation was sounding with laughter. "Or I'm going to look for another husband."

"I told him you would when he confessed his love to Frederic Argent yesterday," Josh threw.

"Josh!"

"What?! Ah, whatever... I don't want to hear about it." Cecile came closer and slipped one hand under Erwin's elbow. "It's time," she added in a softer voice.

The look her husband gave her would outshine the stars.

"Have a nice trip," Josh said, though it seemed they had forgot about him completely.

However, Cecile looked at him warmly and embraced him tenderly. "I wish I could attend your wedding one day," she said seriously. "But... I suppose it's not possible," she added with a chuckle. "Or, maybe, there is a country where guys can marry?"

"To tell the truth... I've no idea," Josh replied, trying to overcome a dizziness. "If so, be sure I'll invite you."

"Look for a candidate, then," Cecile urged him and then, hesitantly, she kissed him on the cheek.

The next moment they were gone. Josh was staring at the dark corridor and wondered why her words had brought to his mind a face with blue eyes and impish smile.

* * *

_In next town, I'll have the bell wake up - "Ratujmy, co się da", Budka Suflera_


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**  
_**(the grass was greener)**_

* * *

Josh slumped into an armchair and closed his eyes. He tried to overcome the chaos filling him but had no chance as even the floor was swaying. Physically. So many emotions, so many sensations... He was under the impression he had been floating in some daze for many hours. There was no use trying to encompass it with reason. Scattered images of the day kept flashing before his eyes, an infinite film of smiling faces, tears of joy, sunlight in hair, billowing clothes and dancing figures... He thought he could still hear laughter, cheers... Music. All that had passed in a moment - yet continued. Colourful kaleidoscope of pictures that would never recur and that no-one could remember, and only impression of something beautiful would still be there. Maybe tomorrow, once he waked up, the world would be orderly again and life would go on like it used to.

Erwin and Cecile had left on honeymoon right after the wedding party, never having examined their gifts. Well, that way, they could enjoy it once they were back. The present from Josh was still in the room assigned to him, unwrapped - painting of Paris in the cloudy day he had bought from an artist working on the bank of the Seine. Suddenly, he worried that the drawing would seem too gloomy in the bright rooms of his friends. He hadn't thought of it before; the painting had delighted him at the first sight - it must have corresponded well with his mood - but what if newly-weds wouldn't like it? Maybe he should draw something himself instead, something more cheerful and sunny...? The meadows surrounding Idealo posed a good scenery...

No, it was ridiculous. He felt a pang in his heart at the memory of the last time he had been drawing... That portrait... had stayed by the Art professor; in the end, Josh had never collected it. He had forgotten, maybe intentionally, was almost pleased with it... and now he realized he could no longer remember Alain Corail's face. If he'd had that picture... it would have been more difficult... wouldn't it? Why was he thinking of it now...? Ah, the painting for Erwin and Cecile... drawing...

He sank even more in the comfortable armchair. All of the sudden, he was very tired. He had been so excited for the long day, but now it faded, leaving him exhausted. Before, he had used to tolerate such occasions much better and still had energy for more. Now it seemed to him he was falling asleep sitting up. His eye-lids were so heavy he couldn't lift them any more. He was already in that pleasant state when the body was sleeping and mind was still conscious but no longer had any power...

Someone's fingers moved gently over his cheek and then down, onto his neck... Someone's? Only one man had ever touched him like this... like he'd always wanted...

"Alain..." The hand stopped on the line of his collar... hesitating...? "Don't stop," he whispered. "Don't stop... Alain..."

The touch vanished, and someone's warm body moved away. Or was it just his imagination...?

He started and opened his eyes. One lamp was lit, the door was shutting slowly, and the light from the corridor was fading... Had someone been here? Had he fallen asleep...? He couldn't remember. He had just come here, sat down... He must have been tired. Maybe he had better go home...? He straightened up and ran one hand through his hair. He realized he felt hot, and his heart was racing... What...?

Apparently, he wasn't awake yet. He shook his head to sober himself up. Had he had any dreams...? Impossible, not in such a short time. But he couldn't remember...

He went back to the main hall, where few participants were still standing. He looked for the familiar, tall figure but couldn't see that mop of fair hair anywhere.

"Guillaume?" repeated Erwin's schoolmate, whom Josh had remembered from the previous night and who seemed still in touch. "Has just left. I was taking a ciggie when he got in taxi and left," he informed politely.

Left? Josh frowned. Had anything happened? They had just been enjoying their company, and Josh had supposed - been sure - their fun wouldn't end anytime soon... while Guillaume... had left? Without as much as goodbye?

'Calm down, Joshua Or,' he told himself. 'You've been knowing each other since yesterday, yet you expect any special treatment?'

Right. He was exaggerating. After all, he wasn't offended nor disappointed... just surprised. Nothing more. Maybe something had come up? 'In the middle of the night?' an evil voice in his head asked, but Josh ignored it. In fact... he had just considered going to bed, then why was he agonizing over Guillaume's absence now?

He felt dizzy. For a moment, he wasn't sure of his feelings any more. Did he really hope for something in regard to Guillaume Azur? No, he defended himself in thought, it was just that Guillaume had given him to understand that... And then he had disappeared without a word.

'Give it a rest,' another part of his mind suggested, 'He must have had his reasons. Go to sleep and think about it tomorrow.'

Josh realized that Erwin's friend - he was called Benoit, or so it seemed - was giving him a curious, although slightly glassy, look. He nodded, thanked and went outside. There were three cabs in front of the inn; Mr Perle had taken care of everything. Josh got in the nearest one and said the destination. When they were moving, he was staring at the velvety black of the night sky glistening with the diamonds of the stars.

Later, as he was laying in his bed and fruitlessly awaiting for sleep to come, he tried many ways to explain to himself Guillaume's strange behaviour. Each time, however, he came to the conclusion he couldn't expect anything else.

He didn't deserve any happiness.

* * *

The next day dawned sunny and warm, but Josh didn't feel like enjoying the weather. He had barely slept in the night, which didn't improve his mood. In the flat whose owners were absent, despite its bright and cheerful décor, he felt lonely and dejected. Yet, he didn't want to go out. He justified it with his lack of sleep, but in fact...

In fact he hoped that Guillaume would come. Or call. Josh had to be home, right?

The day was passing, however, and Guillaume wasn't showing up nor calling. During those hours, Josh tried to figure out his entangled emotions, but all conclusions he came to only worsened his mood.

What he didn't like most about it was that he couldn't specify his own feelings in the first place. He remembered how he had used to feel long ago: everything had been brighter and sharper then. Hot. Now he was under the impression it was barely lukewarm. As if he really was no longer capable of any passion. 'But,' he defended himself in thought, 'yesterday I was really experiencing it.' Yesterday was truly wonderful, and Josh could feel that wonderfulness in every cell of his body...

But, that was something else. Something that didn't concern _him_. Apparently, it was much easier to get in someone else's joy, someone else's happiness - but when it was about him... He wished he felt offended, disappointed, even angry because the man who had seemed to be interested in him had turned away and vanished. Yet, he was under the impression... it was all the same to him.

It almost scared him.

Until now, when he had said he could no longer feel anything, it had been... just talking. Suffering for show, suffering before himself, and something he hadn't even believed in. Now, in the situation that should have upset him, he felt indifferent - and it almost shocked him. What shocked him most was that... incommensurability of his reactions. He had been taking a masochistic pleasure in wallowing in his misery - the greater the more he had believed it to be temporary - but in fact he had been sure he would one day be his old self again. It was with a self-contempt he realized it now; he had always considered himself honest with himself, yet it appeared he wasn't...

Never mind! It was not the main problem here. The main problem was what he felt. Or, rather... what he didn't feel. Could it be that he had... died inside so much... that returning to his old self was no longer possible? Was he to remain that half-dead creature who had nothing but a memory of how great it had once been?

And why exactly was he guarding the telephone and looking out the window at the street every now and then, wanting to see the tall figure of Guillaume Azur? Was it his hurt pride that kept nagging him, perhaps? Not at all. Far from it and quite the opposite. He wanted Guillaume to come... and show that Josh meant something to him, despise of all his wretchedness.

He was pathetic. He had managed to forget it, for a while, but the reality had reminded him of it. He didn't even know Guillaume Azur... and he probably didn't even want to know him. It had been enough that the handsome blonde had been paying attention to him. And once he had stopped... Josh didn't even care.

Maybe it was better this way? More fair to Guillaume?

He hadn't noticed when it'd got dark, and had been sitting in the darkness for some time now. The cat was rubbing against his legs, demanding its supper. He got up to turn on the light and draw the curtains, and thought he should check the mail. He was on his way toward the letterbox by the gate when he remembered it was Sunday. Thanks to the wedding he had got the days mixed up... He turned back to return to the flat when a movement caught his eye. He squinted, looking at the house across the street. There, in the circle of light, someone tall was standing... and then withdrew into the dark again, but Josh managed to recognize Guillaume. For a moment, he was glued to the spot, wondering whether he wasn't seeing things. He had been thinking of Guillaume for the whole day, so it was only justified if he was hallucinating...

Only then he thought if he should follow him, call to him... but... All of it was so strange. He felt headache coming. If it was really Guillaume, then it seemed he was... avoiding him? And Josh didn't know why. But... if he really was avoiding him, then why had he come here?

Why it had to be so complicated and obscure? Why did no-one ever told him things as they were, instead everyone went round him with their veiled truths and... he didn't know what else. But then they always abandoned him anyway.

He bit his lips in a sudden frustration and went back to the flat - only to hear a phone ringing. He picked up before he realized.

"Hello?"

"It's Guillaume," he heard a familiar voice, although there was some hesitation to it now.

Where are you, elation? Joy? Satisfaction? Or even grudge, bitterness, anger?

"Hi..."

Silence fell on the line, and Josh thought they probably looked like two idiots, stuck to the receivers on their ends and mute. But... He didn't know how they could talk. About what. What _he_ should say.

"I don't know how to put it... So I'll say it straight. I'm sorry," Guillaume spoke, and now his voice was honest.

"Oh, I suppose you were busy or... something," Josh replied, he hoped, lightly. "I understand."

"No... I mean... You should have told me."

Josh blinked. "What?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Listen, no need to explain. I'm looking like an idiot now, but it won't kill me. Such things happen," Guillaume tried to sound amused, but Josh was getting more and more anxious.

"Guillaume, what are you-"

"I don't know if you just wanted to try something new... Well, it's not my business anyway. No, I don't hold it against you. We're not lassies," he laughed nervously. "But it kept nagging me: that I left you there in the middle of the night. Why, I was pissed off. Once I cooled down and went back, you had already left... Sorry. Anyway... It was nice to meet you. I really hoped for something more... But, in the end, I was just forcing myself on you. Really, you should have cut me short. No, I feel like a prize fool just saying it... Take care."

Josh kept standing there and listening to the signal, trying to figure out what had just happened, but gathering his thoughts in a logical manner seemed impossible. What the hell had Guillaume been talking about? The only thing emerging from his chaotic monologue was some enormous misunderstanding about Josh. And that was the reason why Guillaume no longer wanted to interact with him. In general, it should be all the same to Josh... just like it had been only a moment ago... but something inside him rebelled against being treated such way. He hated misunderstandings about himself. People were free to think of him whatever they wanted, but if any trouble should happen to him owing to someone's delusions... The worst was the realization he had no idea what it was all about.

He put down the receiver and folded his arms, frowning. With some part of his mind, he acknowledged the thought that Guillaume was okay; after all, he had called. And apologized for yesterday. And there was some regret, too, that it had had to end this way... For Josh had no illusions that whatever had been between them _was_ over. In fact, it was over before it even started. Apparently, he was fated to have it this way...

He shook his head. Now, there was nothing he wanted more than to get the matter straightened out. Or, maybe... maybe Guillaume was just drunk? People used to say strange things when drunk. But the man hadn't sounded intoxicated, and besides Josh had had a chance to see him after having drunk quite a lot and still sober. Then, maybe he had... imagined something? The thought sent shivers down Josh's spine, but then he dismissed it as silly. Guillaume hadn't been acting like a maniac - at most, crazy over him, ha ha... And not for long, for that matter.

Josh bit his lip, tapping his nose with one finger. He didn't know why it was so important to him. He had just been struggling with the feeling of indifference... Now he couldn't stand the thought of being formed an opinion of - any opinion - that had nothing to do with reality. Again, he recollected the conversation... What it was that Guillaume had suggested?

He frowned again. The thing was he couldn't understand what the man had been trying to communicate. It seemed he had been talking about something that was clear to him - and should be clear to Josh as well? He had been implying that Josh had been toying with him and not taking him seriously. But why? In what kind of situation Josh would not take him seriously and put him on the spot instead? 'You should have told me,' he had reproached Josh. Told him about what? When Guillaume's advances would be 'forcing himself' on Josh?

Josh racked his brain over it... and just couldn't solve it. It angered him. Oh, how he wished he could talk with Guillaume about it, but the man had rung off and didn't seem like associating with Josh any more. Josh clenched his fists. If only he could contact him... He wasn't going to spend following days on fretting and guessing. Definitely not.

Actually... He stared at the phone, and then he bent and took the phone book from beneath it. 'Maybe his number is listed,' he thought, leafing through the dictionary, determined to call Guillaume and clear the issue up. Au, Av, Az... It was there! Azur, Guillaume. Carpenter's Street 27. He dialled the number, feeling his heart beating fast. He had never got used to talking by the phone...

"Azur."

"Joshua Or speaking."

"Wha-" Guillaume started, but Josh didn't intend to be interrupted again.

"I think there's some big misunderstanding as to my person," he said outright, "and I want to sort it out."

"Misunderstanding? Oh, I don't think so..."

"Would you please be so nice and explain what you meant before? I've been trying to figure it out for a quarter but still have no idea what it was about."

"Does it please you so much to make a fool of me? Spare yourself..."

"I'm not making a fool of you!" Josh started to grow impatient. "First you hit- First you act like you're interested in me, and show it in a very suggestive way, too, and then you just disappear. And then you call with an alleged explanation that, in fact, complicates things even more. I can't help but think you've mistaken me for someone," he said helplessly.

"Far from this. It appeared that Joshua Or is quite famous in some circles..."

"What? Guillaume, what are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent with me. Xavier Grenat confirmed it..."

"Xavier Grenat?" It sounded familiar to Josh, but he couldn't quite associate the name... "Who the hell is he?"

"He seems to have been a student council president in your high school..."

Josh felt cold. Indeed, how could he ever forgot? On the other hand... Why should he remember? But... What did _he_ have to do with anything, a man he had last seen three years ago...?

"Bull's eye, huh?" Guillaume asked, and now agitation was mixed with some satisfaction in his voice.

"And what could he even 'confirm'?" Josh asked faintly. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to hear an answer.

"Your relationship with Alain Corail."

Josh felt as if he had just been hit. He was under the impression he was suffocating and wondered whether he would breath normally again.

He hadn't expected it. The receiver slipped from his hands but didn't hit the floor, for the cord had got entangled in Josh's fingers. From afar, he could hear Guillaume's last words, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me again. Goodbye."

His back against the wall, Josh slowly slid down, staring at some invisible point in a distance. He could not gather his thoughts, for the words 'Your relationship with Alain Corail' kept echoing in his head. The cat sat next to him and started grooming, but it could as well be in some different world, for the one Josh's consciousness narrowed to was filled with the painfully hard heart-beating and the feeling of cold.

The first thought he managed to produce was, 'I have to leave here.' Then he remembered what he had promised to Erwin and Cecile, and felt even worse. Well, they would understand. He couldn't stay here. They couldn't expect that he remained here and exposed himself to such things. He wanted to forget his past, he wanted to believe in future... but it just wasn't possible here. No way. The proper time for desensitisation had yet to came; now the doses were still to high.

His relationship with Alain Corail?

His relationship with Alain Corail had ended three years ago! Since that time, Josh hadn't seen the man even once, and what was in his heart was only his business, so ephemeral it could as well not exist at all. Surely not for someone else. What right did Guillaume Azur and Xavier-What-Was-His-Name-Again have to say to his face things that weren't true?

Why hadn't he objected? Why hadn't he said it was all rubbish? Why hadn't he asked why Guillaume had believed it in the first place?

The initial answer was obvious: it had surprised him too much. Even shocked. But, underneath, there was another, even more truthful... His relationship with Alain Corail. For a moment - for a split second - he could remember _what_ that relationship had been. Even if it had lasted an instance - two months - it had been something that any kind of relation he could have with Guillaume Azur would never be, that one was pretty clear. At that moment, Josh realized he wouldn't have any compromises in his life.

And then despondency he had been - had he? - struggling against for last months overwhelmed him again. It was as if one sentence - and the situation behind it - had destroyed that fragile balance he had managed to restore during one week. In one blink. He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face.

What had happened with his life? He still couldn't comprehend it. Only few years ago... He'd had plans and energy and had been happy. He would always find positives and advance. He would set goals and believe in himself. He would believe to find his happiness one day. And now he was here, weak and pathetic, having strength only for living through yet another day and going to bed in the evening with relief it had ended and with hope it might be the last one. How a person could change so much in such a short time? It probably wasn't about growing up, then... He saw Erwin and Cecile flourishing every day more. And all other people walking the streets, smiling, living...

How could he help himself? Could _anyone_ help him?

Life was not about being happy all the time, even he knew it. Everyone encountered difficult times, and all it took was to deal with them, accept them and... go on. Why was he under the impression his life had stopped? As if he had been that little boy who had never grown up to wrestle with life. No, worse - after all, some years ago he'd _felt_ he could face any opponent... He had considered himself strong. The mere faith he would succeed had been enough. Now that such faith was gone... A vicious cycle.

But why? How could it be that a single adversity had altered him so much? True, he had always regarded love as most important. Love had been his goal. He had never desired anything as much as to find love - and requited, too. He had failed - but could it explain all that? He didn't understand it. He was the same Joshua Or as before, he had the same arms and legs, the same eyes and nose... Then, why did he have the feeling everything had taken an U-turn?

Or, maybe... Maybe it was the thing he had always refused to accept: that some people were fated different life than others? That some were born under their lucky stars, while others were meant to suffer? That for some everything would turn out right, while others would have it bad regardless? And there was nothing one could do about it...

He asked himself if he would be able to give up his dreams if doing so could restore some order in his life. Such thoughts were pointless but... Would he agree for... normality, be able to become like others... and lead a normal life - without passions, but without suffering either? Never wonder about things - but, in exchange, graduate from university, find a work and start a family...

No, he lacked imagination.

He raised his head and wiped his tears. Sitting and self-pitying would get him nowhere. The thing was he didn't know _what_ could get him somewhere.

* * *

_"High Hopes", __Pink Floyd_  



	6. Chapter 6

**6.**  
_**(it's easier to live alone than fear the time it's over)**_

* * *

It was another night that Josh didn't really rest. In the morning - well, it was almost noon already - he felt completely worn out, mostly mentally. The day had, however, dawned, along with the well-tried routine: it was better not to think anything, which he managed pretty well. Once you get more and more tired, you cease focusing on things that make you feel even worse, right? He decided to start with a long bath; the cat accompanied him, busy with his own toilette. Soaking in pleasantly warm water refreshed him a bit, although the feeling of dumbness got only stronger. Yet, it was better this way.

During his breakfast, the cat vanished, probably in order to busy itself with its own. It was likely that it didn't intend to give up its independence, even if it had been staying with Erwin and Cecile, for Josh kept encountering it with a mouse or a sparrow in its mouth. Josh preferred more traditional way of getting his food: from the fridge. He ate the meal without any enthusiasm but with a genuine appetite; he had barely eaten anything the previous day...

After breakfast, he cleaned the living-room a little - the gifts were all over it - and then he decided to have a walk. Silence filling the flat didn't depress him so much; he was slowly getting used to it and would gladly stay home... but he knew it was exactly what he shouldn't do. Besides... Putting aside the matter of his mood, it as a real nonsense to confine himself within the four walls in the height of summer. Once back in Paris, he would have all too much opportunities: there, the weather never was so nice as here. He pressed his lips into a thin line at the memory of the gloomy streets, shut faces of people passing him in the parks, leafless trees... Beggars in front of the main station... Humid draught from the Seine...

_Ah!_ He shook his head, mad at himself, when shutting the gate. In reality, Paris was a nice city! It was just that his mind had summoned up a most repulsive image of it. For a while, he tried to focus on what he really liked about that place. The atmosphere of the Old Town. Street painters able to conjure a portrait or a landscape painting with just few brush-strokes. Notre Dame Cathedral, the most magnificent building Josh had ever seen. In sunny days, the town was bright, resounding with laugher of children and adolescents, radiating energy of all people who lived there. Paris was a wonder on its own, and it charmed everyone who had a glimpse of it. Josh wasn't an exception.

Still... The thought of going back to the capital was unpleasant, even though he was equally aware he could not stay in Idealo. He slowed down. Again, he didn't know what to do - a feeling he really hated. Something had happened to his decision making, too, he thought, involuntarily continuing his reflection from yesterday. Before, everything would be clear to him and his choices would be obvious... He had used to choose and stand by his decisions, simply trusting them. And now it seemed that... he was scared of deciding, as if he tried to protect his status quo at all cost, deluding himself that it was the best thing to do, even if it was bad, too. True, he had never liked changes; this one thing about him was still the same. The problem was it was restricting him more than ever.

His legs took him to the very centre of the town and to the church, where Erwin and Cecile had got married two days earlier. Through that door they had come out, in the shower of rice and symphony of cheers; here Cecile had tossed her bouquet; and here Erwin had furtively wiped his tears... Someone could say they had finally reached their goal, but Josh knew that, in their care, merely the path they had been following for a while had become a cobbled road. They would walk it until the end of their lives - until the goal that awaited all people. He wondered how they were doing; surely, they were enjoying the sun and one another, and their time together, free of any concerns. Erwin could finally touch her, and Cecile had finally made it into marriage. They had been really cute when engaged... Josh felt his lips twitched in a slightest shade of smile. On the other hand, he couldn't help but wondered if it was his fate to live next to the couple who couldn't be more happy in their love...

He raised his head and looked at the spire of the church, squinting in the July sunlight. The bell had just struck one o'clock so... he could as well take an opportunity and ascend tower. He hadn't been here for years. He could remember to have been coming here whenever troubled, to find comfort looking at the town underneath. He didn't believe it to help him now but soon was climbing the wooden stairs of the belfry nonetheless. Breathing heavily, he slipped onto the small balcony, relieved at the cooler wind that used to blow here all the time. He moved closer to the balustrade, opening his eyes wide as if he wanted to catch every detail of the view, both well-known and forgotten. His heart quickened.

The scenery of the southern Idealo, stretching before him now, had never stopped amazing him. It was so rich. Josh could have nothing yet, standing here, he would feel uplifted - in a way he didn't really understand. Maybe that view, more than anything else, reminded him there was still some beauty in the world, even if he had forgotten it? Even if he was down, that view could still move him, causing a funny feeling in his stomach: an impression of warm where, it seemed to him, there was no longer any warm. He thought he really loved that city, after all...

His gaze followed the familiar streets, converging and splitting again until they became invisible among the fields and meadows outside the town. To the right, if he leaned out, he could see a fragment of the cemetery; to the left was always the campus of Saint Grollo, green with its gardens and parks that engulfed the building of the school and the dorms almost entirely. Now, during summer holiday, the place was quiet; most of the student were out, as were the teachers. Discipline relaxed, the atmosphere helped to regenerate after the laborious school year and before another one...

Suddenly, out of the blue, he missed school, with all himself and almost physically. His heart was beating so hard it pained him. He missed the lessons, even those he had never liked; the teachers, even those he had regarded as the bores; the dorms he had lived in for seven years; the yards where he had used to study in the spring; the schoolmates he could no longer even remember. He missed the time when he would put on his school uniform and feel like the king of the world... happy, joyful, able to laugh and believe in his future. He thought he could remember how the air had been smelling that time, too. If he reached, he would surely...

He might as well cry for the moon. He pulled his hands away from the railing and entered the tower. Never looking back, he ran down the stairs. He wasn't sure of what would happen if he let himself a longer contemplation. Besides... Was there any point in brooding on past? There wasn't, not at all. _Don't do pointless things, Josh._ He went back to the street and made his way towards home, suddenly angry with himself though he didn't know why. Yet, even that anger quickly faded, as if it was too tiring so that he could maintain it. He slowed down, remembering he had left to have a walk. He ran one hand through his hair, calming down. Home could wait; did he had anything to do there? Sit down and stare at the walls? He would get back sooner that he really wanted, anyway...

The Market Square was crowded - there was some summer fair taking place there - so he entered a small side street. In Paris, he should have got used to the crowds... but it hadn't happened. Huddles used to displease him and he made him change his location, if only he had enough strength. Usually he didn't... The prominent example would be the medicine lectures he had kept accidentally ending in. Compared to the faculty of medicine, his own practically didn't exist, so he had been often amazed by the horde of the doctors-to-be in the auditorium. As possible as that he had gone into the wrong place or misread his timetable was that the medicine had been using its position of the undisputed queen of natural sciences to seize the auditorium whenever needed. Not that Josh really complained; at least, he could always learn something new... for he couldn't resist the impression that his own subject seemed dull as ditch-water... Or maybe it wasn't it?

Thoughtful, he walked on, engulfed in the silence of the street, not really paying attention to his surrounding. The shadow and coolness brought to mind the corridors of the university. Josh decided he had a rather ambivalent attitude towards his studies. On one hand... Sure, he had got to the best university in the country without any entrance exams... He should be proud of himself. Anyone would be in his shoes, right? On top of it, he had been studying what he had always... wanted? No, he corrected himself, rather what he had ever thought of. Who would have believed that one remark spoken lightly by Cecile's father would lead to this...? He couldn't really remember his last years in high school, but it seemed to him he had clung to that psychology in order to cling to something at all, and he had directed all his efforts onto it... for he couldn't think of anything else. Not a very good motivation, he realized it pretty well himself.

Psychology. Study of the soul. What had he really expected? Given he had had any expectations in the first place... which was unlikely. For now, the studies were pretty theoretical, a lot of reading and memorizing. Many subjects weren't even connected to the field: Latin, philosophy, history... The discipline itself was quite young and it seemed to still be looking for its place among others, more popular and established. Even the professors appeared to not really know what it was they wanted to pass on to their students. Josh hoped it would change and the studies would become more specific later, for now he liked those accidental medical lectures much more. On the other hand... Sometimes the idea of continuing to study evoked a vague feeling of objection. He had barely completed his first year. He had been studying a lot, almost all the time, yet he felt that most of it didn't stay in his head for longer. His marks spoke for themselves, although that one could as well be the harsh reality of university studies: no matter how much one studied, it was still not enough for the professors...

He came to a stop at the exit of the street, frowning, and looked back. He had a feeling someone was following him for a while now. The lane was, however, empty, and only a local cat stole by the wall before jumping into the basement window. 'Joshua Or, you're oversensitive,' he told himself. Well, only yesterday Guillaume Azur _had_ been sticking around his house - which today seemed almost comical... with emphasis on 'almost', for it seemed mostly unreal. The man might have broken off, but... What Josh really know about the person who associated - for he apparently did - with and believed someone like Xavier What-Was-His-Name, a former Mister Git Student Council President in Saint Grollo? It wasn't past him that he, for example, had decided to stalk Josh... However, for some reason, it was all the same to Josh today.

He wasn't going to care about it any more.

Pensive, he entered another street... and looked around, having no idea where he was. The lane was so narrow, with the houses so close to each other, that he couldn't see the sun and try to determine his location. The distant sound of the cathedral bells reached him from behind, but it made sense since it was the direction he had come from. Naturally, there was no-one he could ask the way either. He looked ahead, squinting. He could spot the moving figures in the other end; apparently, there was a well-trodden street there. He resumed walking... but then someone's arm embraced him from behind, and the next thing he knew he was being pressed against some tall figure, with the other hand covering his mouth.

"I've nothing valuable with me!' he wanted to shout out, not even scared, rather surprised with that assault. He tried to wrench himself away, but the aggressor seemed much stronger, for he was holding him tight and didn't care about his attempts. Then, maybe he should bite... get rid of that hand and call for help? He inhaled through his nose... and froze.

He knew that scent.

He couldn't be mistaken. He had never forgotten how Alain Corail smelled. He would recognize that scent everywhere - regardless of how much time had passed - and in Idealo it was even easier. But... he tried to gather his thoughts after that shock... and just couldn't... Why... Why was Alain here... why he was doing it... what did he want? His mind was spinning, and his heart was racing in his chest - Alain could feel it under the hand... Josh was sure Alain could even see his pulse throbbing on the neck... Himself, he felt Alain's warm breath on his cheek and...

Pressure on his mouth lessened, and it seemed to him the hands holding him trembled...

"Alain...?" he whispered involuntarily and moaned when the hands held him tighter again.

Something soft brushed against his neck, and he suppressed another moan... It had to be Alain's hair when the man leaned and whispered right in his ear, "Witchcraft... What have you done to me?"

Josh felt his eyes grew wider. What...? He tried to free himself again, but in vain. Alain was holding him so tight it caused pain. But it was not pain Josh focused on, only the vibration that spread throughout his body, as if the blood was pulsating in each cell... everywhere... He felt dizzy... and hot, his cheeks were flushed. He wished he could take a deep breath... he needed more air... He had to break free, otherwise... otherwise... Maybe if he jabbed his elbow into Alain's ribs, Alain would loosen his tight... but it seemed the most difficult thing in the world...

Then, however, Alain released him, and very abruptly. Josh staggered forward, drawing air deep into his lungs. He turned around... to see no-one. Alain must have run around the corner or hidden inside the building. Josh wouldn't hear his steps anyway, for the pounding in his head drowned out all noises. He tried to calm his breath, but it simply wouldn't do. His pulse wouldn't slow down, and his body was burning. He turned around and ran out of the lane. He wasn't in a perfect state to show himself to people - visibly agitated - but staying there was by no means safe, even if he couldn't say why. Never looking back - although he was tempted to - he made his way towards home, once he knew where he was again.

One street, second, third... Faces of people were blurred, and Josh didn't pay any attention to anyone who could cast a curious look at him. He was short of breath, his head was spinning, and it felt he would faint any moment. He had got unused to physical exertion, and it was too much... He was sure he would scream if anyone touched him now. It seemed to him he had turned into a bundle of sensations and any new would set him off.

Finally, the Azalea Street, familiar gate... His hands were trembling as he unlocked the door, and he almost dropped the keys... At last, the flat embraced him in its safety as he was breathing heavily in the hallway and trying to overcome weakness. Absent-mindedly, he moved into the living-room and fell onto the couch.

He tried to collect himself but couldn't. What the hell was happening to him? It had been a quarter already, yet he was still vibrating like a string. He tried to figure out that sensation that seemed familiar but long forgotten. It took him a while to realize - and it gave him another shock - that since his encounter with Alain he had been sexually aroused.

He groaned.

It couldn't be real. True, Alain Corail _had_ used to attract him this way - namely, when Josh had been in love with him - but it had been so long... And so much had happened in the meantime. And so much Alain had hurt him... It simply couldn't be true that after all of that Josh still _wanted_ him...!

The touch of arms holding him... a tall figure pressed against his back... Alain's warm breath over his right ear... A shiver ran through his body, and he groaned again, covering his face with both hands.

If now... If now Alain came in through that door, Josh wouldn't think twice... he wouldn't even think once... Alain could do to him anything he wished...

'You're pathetic, Joshua Or,' he told himself, and all voices in his head kept silent and none objected.

He was pathetic.

Three years of no contact. Three years of separation. Pain of being left behind and betrayed... It was as if they had never been there to begin with, for under Alain's one touch he turned to wax.

That was how worth he was. Nothing.

He bit his lips. Never before had he felt so wretched.

'Aren't you exaggerating now?' his common sense, that seemed to have nodded off for a minute, asked. 'Only two days ago you reacted the very same way to Guillaume. Don't you think you're attaching too much weight to normal physiological reactions?'

Josh opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling, though he didn't really see it. He took a deep breath. And then one more.

Maybe... Maybe it made sense...? He clutched at that thought and started to examine it. He was nineteen years old, and he was a man - longing for any bodily closeness. Was it really so strange that his body responded to such stimuli? Another shiver ran through him, but he ignored it. Definitely, he preferred that idea better. Others involved self-pitying again... while Josh was under the impression he hadn't been doing anything else for the last days. At least since yesterday. He had enough of it. He hated self-pitying. It wasn't a nice thing at all. 'Good, take it like a man,' his common sense supported him. Alain was - still - attracting him? So what? Nothing much...

Only it wasn't something he could just wave aside.

He sighed and rolled over on the side, pulling his knees up. He stretched one hand and observed his trembling fingers before he drew it to his chest again.

He hadn't expected it. Of course he hadn't. It was only natural that he was so shaken after something he hadn't expected had happened to him. He stared in the distance.

Alain.

He had met _Alain_.

He had thought he had said goodbye to him, deep inside. He had thought their paths would never cross again. He had tried - without success - to sort his life out without him. It could be better that way - only it wasn't. For now, just like he had just realized, it felt that those three years hadn't been there. As if they hadn't happened at all. As if they hadn't brought along all they had brought.

For Josh, for the first time in a long time, felt he was alive.

And, if he could make some initial conclusions, it was that he didn't hate Alain.

He was still lying on the couch, curled up, but he felt strangely light inside. After the first frustration was gone, he realized he actually felt... good. What was filling him now wasn't just physical arousal - it was general excitement. His heartbeat was fast and steady, his muscles were tense, ready to act, and his mind was working agilely. The cat jumped on the armrest and filled the silence with purring.

Then, he had met Alain - and didn't hate him?

What now? It might have seemed to him as if three years of suffering and sadness were all gone, but they were still there - and they had taught him something, hadn't they? Just a few days ago he had said he would not hurl himself into Alain's arms and would rather forget him - and now? Now that he had been in those arms again... he started to waver. Of course, it held water. And he really wasn't going to pity himself again, but it was a fact that - he remembered - whenever Alain was concerned... all Josh's actions were directed at him. He sat up.

'He hurt you,' his common sense reminded him. 'He hurt you so many times. You could wallpaper your brain with it already. And I know what you're going to say, but if you want to play optimistic, you shouldn't do it with him.'

'People change!' Josh objected, aware it was a very weak argument though.

'They do, but... maybe you haven't noticed that, in his case, it was a change for worse.'

Josh gulped. That was... true. If he checked his rampaging hormones and analyzed the situation clear-headed - driving back the memory of warm of Alain's body next to him, the man's whisper and play of his muscles under the clothes - it became obvious that Alain hadn't seemed... friendly. Not at all. First, he had assaulted Josh. Second, he had acted - to call it as it was - brutally. Third, it seemed he held some... grudge against Josh? He had been _completely_ different that Josh remembered him, in every aspect, and he should evoke at least feeling of anxiety, if not repulsion, in Josh. Only now Josh slowly realized that the image of Alain he had been carrying in his mind might have been... well, maybe not distorted but definitely incomplete. It was likely that he would have the opportunity - he would be forced - to learn about Alain's other side, the one he had never seen before.

Oh. Josh's eyes grew wide at the final conclusion.

'Then, you still intend,' his common sense didn't try to hide its amazement, 'to go to him?'

_He touched me like he has never had before,_ he answered mutely.

'You're going to suffer again.'

'If there's any chance... any hope... I'll risk a pain,' he replied eagerly.

'But how much of it will you bear?' his common sense asked resignedly.

Josh shook his head; his eyes were suddenly stinging. Did he really believe it? Why? Only yesterday he had succumbed to indifference - as well as despair that he was no longer capable of believing or feeling... Was just one encounter enough to replenish all his faith? His optimism and wish to be happy? How could this be possible...?

Did he really still _love_ Alain Corail - and still couldn't imagine a life without him?

He wiped his eyes with back of one hand. No, this one he could promise himself: he _would_ be careful. His common sense was right: he shouldn't thoughtlessly endanger himself, and the danger could be any, from completely physical to completely psychical, even if it sounded exalted. First, he had to make sure what were Alain's intentions. He had often felt he hadn't grown up at all, but he really wasn't a kid any more, not that kid that had used to rush into anything new. And... it was still true that Alain had hurt him... more than once, on top of it. Josh couldn't simply assume everything would be all right now, and they would live happily ever after.

He swallowed, for his throat clenched again.

For now... For now Josh would be careful and on his guard. He didn't even know what it was that Alain wanted of him - if he wanted in the first place. Maybe their meeting was just a coincidence without any purpose? But he couldn't quite believe it. Nor he did intend to consent to everything that was yet to come. He didn't...

He pulled his knees up and pressed his face to them. Tension of the last hour and all that enormous shock... were leaving him in a very physical way. He couldn't hold his tears, so he only wrapped his arms around his legs, clutching at the fabric of the trousers, and let the sob shake him silently.

Apparently, he was bound to always cry because of Alain Corail, he thought, shutting his eyes and lips tight. The cat jumped down from the armrest and rubbed against his side. Josh stroke its soft fur, taking comfort in the warmth and presence of the living creature in the moment he felt more mixed-up than ever.

However, he felt that this time the tears were soothing.

* * *

_"Tallulah", __Sonata Arctica_  



	7. Chapter 7

**7.**  
_**(deine Hölle brennt in mir du bist mein Überlebenselixier)**_

* * *

His headache in the next morning Josh had greeted with the realization that, despite feeling much better in Idealo, he slept here much worse than in Paris. But, he decided, slightly annoyed, he was unlikely to die of lack of sleep in his age, so he could as well spare himself whining, especially in the light of the reason of his insomnia.

Somehow, he had survived the previous day, although it seemed to him - as he regarded it today - he rather had been floating in chaos, unable to find any support. He had been filled with thoughts and emotions, and feeling, and regrets... hope and fear... doubts and beliefs... And he even hadn't reached any conclusions - except for that he wanted to meet Alain once more.

It was a good start.

In the morning, he decided it was impossible for him to grasp all those sensations, which was one of the most reasonable judgement he had formed recently. After all, was there any point in deliberating over the question whether Alain wanted to see him in the first place? His mind, if he let it, would find a dozen of arguments that he didn't. Or could he benefit from wondering about what he could really expect of Alain? If he were to look at it based on his previous experience, he would decide at once that nothing good.

He wanted to see Alain - so much it scared him. He still hadn't answered the question what it was he felt towards the man. Once, it had been so easy to admit loving him - and it had been so hard to keep silent about it. Now, more than anyone, Josh _wished_ he could say it again - whole-heartedly - but... he didn't know. Whenever he thought of Alain, he experienced - since yesterday - a vague pain in the chest and arousal in the rest of his body.

He had to see him. Look at him. Hear his voice. Ask... Above all, ask _why_... Why then, why now... Only about future he didn't dare to ask - and he didn't believe the day would come that he would dare.

And then he became discouraged again... anxious... Why? What for? Did it really matter? He was going to fail anyway. It simply wouldn't work out with Alain. Not with _that_ Alain.

Over and over again. At some point, he started to consider busying himself with something, for he had the impression he was going mad... and then the phone rang. Only Erwin, of all people, could get the idea of calling from his honeymoon. Josh told him that everything was okay, the house was sound and safe and the cat was doing well, but Erwin - how was he doing this? - sensed the problem right away.

"How is it going with Guillaume?" he asked almost casually.

Guillaume? Ah, right... Josh had managed to forget the man. And didn't feel bad about it at all. "I think I wasn't his type after all," he said ironically. "If anything had been between us, I'd have said he had dumped me."

"What?!" Erwin became indignant the way only he could. Josh almost smiled.

"It seems he heard something about me... and he didn't like it."

"What?! Huh... I can't believe it. I though he was okay. I'm sorry, Josh..."

"That's nothing. It's better it turned out now and not later."

"Well, you may be right, but still... What was his problem?" Erwin wondered.

"Does name Xavier... err... ring a bell?"

"You can't mean Xavier Grenat?"

"Yeah, him..."

"He studied in my college. What about him?"

"Maybe you don't remember, but he used to be a student council president in our school..."

"Sure he was. And?"

Josh suppressed a sigh. After all, he had never initiated Erwin in his ordeal with the git, mostly because he hadn't thought it worth even talking about.

"I was on the outs with him. We clashed a few times in high school... I couldn't stand him. And vice versa."

"And you think he backbit you? What a bastard! I didn't expect it... But that Guillaume believed him? That's what surprise me more. You should clear it up, Josh..."

Erwin's indignation was so honest Josh felt better right away. However, as for Guillaume... "Erwin... I think it's okay. You know, I think we weren't meant for each other..." Involuntarily, he thought he knew who he was meant for... Even though he and Alain seemed so mismatched... "So, I think it's better this way."

"Still..."

"Really. But..." Could he say it? But if he didn't, Erwin would worry about him again, which wouldn't do! "Erwin, you know... I have someone in view..." he added quietly, clenching the receiver so tight his knuckles went pale.

Silence fell on the line, as if Erwin didn't know what to say. He was probably surprised. Or, maybe, he didn't believe Josh? Then, however, Erwin said cautiously, "You're fast, Josh. Then... take care. I'll be calling..."

"Uhm... I may be out, so don't worry if I don't pick up, okay?" He could as well take care of unwanted conversations, although he felt like an utter git saying that.

But... he really didn't feel like talking with Erwin, not now... He didn't want to lie to him, but he felt he couldn't tell him about Alain... not yet... It was better if Erwin thought he was already busy with his new acquaintance. He was probably used to that already; even if it couldn't be said that Josh changed the objects of his affection like underwear, it didn't usually take him much time to find a new one if the old was no longer available. Ugh, it sounded nasty anyway. In any case, Josh preferred to handle his business alone, much less did he want to unburden himself at a distance. He truly didn't like telephones...

"Ah, there's a postman carrying a parcel!" he called. "Another gift for you, I bet... Oh, right! Say hello to Cecile! Take care! Bye!"

He hung up, hoping that their next conversation would happen in person. And that his life would have become a bit simplified by then.

He opened his eyes wide, somewhat shocked. When had he started to think so optimistically?

He sat down on the couch, stroking the cat, that had just jumped onto it next to him and was demanding caresses. 'I have someone in view...' Right. He had spent the whole morning, thinking he wanted to meet Alain... What remained a problem was how to execute that plan. Should he just go to him? Where would he find him? Last time... it was Alain who had found him - Josh became more and more convinced that their encounter in that lane wasn't coincidental. He felt hot. Alain... had known Josh was in the town? And... had tried to meet him? Had followed him? What could it mean? - Josh asked himself faintly.

For all his frustrating personality, Alain had never been an idiot. If... Josh gulped... If he wanted, he was able to think a problem over with great logic and find the solution, and then put it into effect. Josh was sure he was giving the reins to the imagination, but he let himself the vision of Alain actually having been _expecting_ his return to Idealo... The man could remember that Erwin - who had been about to get married in grand style - was Josh's best friend... He could have expected Josh to be present... Maybe he even had attended the wedding? And had seen Josh in the church...?

Josh got up, poured himself some cold water and drank in one gulp. Suddenly, he was very hot, and he had to cool himself. Only in the next moment he realized he had been following the most optimistic scenario - which meant he was just a step away from another disappointment. He couldn't be so foolish. He couldn't assume anything like this... Especially that, he remembered, he still might expect something unpleasant on Alain's part.

Well, nothing had happened - 'yet,' a voice in his head reminded him - but he had to be cautious anyway. Not even about Alain but himself.

He started to doubt again whether what he planned to do was wise. Well, it wasn't, by no account. He couldn't trust Alain, but he couldn't trust himself either. And, despite it, he wanted to meet with him. He rested against the sink and closed his eyes, trying to overcome the dizziness. Some thought was thrashing about his mind... some perverse realization that he hadn't been wanting anything in a long while... so maybe it was high time to satisfy his desires? And what it was he had told himself? 'I'll risk a pain.'

He returned on the couch and looked outside the window. It still didn't solve the problem how he was going to find Alain. Could he count on Alain finding him again? Should he hang around the spot he had got 'lost' yesterday? Or should he go anywhere... and hope for being lucky? He winced. What if... What if Alain, after that one time, had lost interest? What if he had withdrawn again...?

'I will not let him,' Josh thought, and it took him a while to realize it.

He wouldn't let him. That thought was so obvious he was amazed. Something had changed if he really thought it. Something was different that three years ago when he had let Alain go. Sure, what else could he have done then? Nothing. Alain had made a decision, and Josh had had to come to terms with it... But now? Now he felt, for the first time in his life, he would have as much to say as Alain. He was done with weaving his way, testing the water, all that game which had seemed a necessity that time. He was no longer that sixteen year old boy, who - for all his courage - believed it to be a wild-goose chase. He was a grown up man now (he ignored the thought he had felt like a kid only a few days ago), and he intended to take care of the matter like one. Now he could even acknowledge that it was for his immaturity - along with his lack of courage to say thing straight - that everything had ended like it had. No, probably he was too harsh on himself, but he couldn't quite resist the overwhelming impression that this time he should act differently.

He would go to Alain Corail and tell him... Well, he still didn't know what. But he could imagine himself standing before Alain, with his head up, and demanding a serious treatment. And if Alain didn't feel like this... Then Josh would prove to him he wasn't going to leave empty-handed.

His cheeks were still burning, but when he looked into a mirror, he saw a flash in his eyes, the one he hadn't seen for a longer while. It took him some time to identify the sensation that was filling him - and that had once been so natural to him: that he was capable of anything.

* * *

Erwin's phone book had every chance to become Josh's personal bible after it helped him once more. As a person who didn't use telephone at all, Josh usually didn't remember its informative aspect, and thus it took him a longer while to realize he could find Alain's address, as abbreviated as it could be, in it. Yet, Alain's address was there, and fairly detailed: the street name and house number. Hoping that Erwin would forgive him poking around his library, Josh checked it on the city plan. It appeared Alain lived in the very centre of the town, only a few streets from Erwin's and Cecile's flat...

Now that Josh almost had him within reach, he hesitated again. Should he really go there? What would he find? What if... Alain weren't alone? It hadn't crossed his mind before that Alain could... have someone. Only after a while he realized he had crumpled the map when involuntarily clenching his fists.

No, he wouldn't assume such things. It was already too late to bother with such details. If Alain had company, Josh would politely excuse his intrusion and ask the man for a talk. He would laugh at the very thought - only he was dead serious. He couldn't quite remember the last time he had been so resolved.

A quarter later he was standing in front of the building - a high tenement house - and looking in its windows. He tried to stop his heart from pounding, a sound that was probably heard all over the street. Now that he was here... No, he hadn't really lost courage... it had only melted like snow in one spring afternoon. He was here - and what now? Judging from the size, there had to be over twenty apartments in the building. He wouldn't run around, knock and ask about Alain Corail... Ah, they might have a register of inhabitants inside...

Still, he kept standing in the spot, the gaze of his wide open eyes focused on the grey stone of the house. A sound of bicycle bell, along with a remark about lunatics, aroused him from that stupor. He didn't care in the slightest but moved aside nonetheless... only to keep his observation, unable to think what he should do next. After all, there was no hurry, he had the whole day... He could... He could as well wait for Alain; the man would surely go out... for the paper... or... cigarettes... He looked around. Of course, not a single bench in sight... Then, he would stay where he was.

He brushed his hair back and took some deep breaths. True, he had the whole day; however, he would rather not waste it on admiring the architecture of Idealo - especially that in this particular case there was nothing to admire. The building, although not really neglected, seemed to be past its prime - it would definitely benefit from a façade restoration. Some brighter colour would do. The interior - that interested him much more - probably didn't look better. He suppressed a sigh of frustration. Maybe he should take a risk and look around that register, after all?

This time, he managed to sense the movement - the presence - but he was still to slow to react. One strong hand was laid on his nape - a gesture that was seemingly friendly and actually quite possessive - and the warm breath tickled his left ear as Alain said, "Come in."

Josh gulped, frozen. How come Alain managed to include so much in that one word, and so quiet on top of it...? Warning, anger, even smile - ominous, predatory... Josh felt all his hair stand on end. Alain must have observed him for a longer while, and Josh had made a mistake, letting himself be stolen on from behind once again. Next time he might be not so lucky...

When he gathered his strength to turn around and look at Alain, the man already passed him and headed for the house. Josh could see only his shoulders - so slim and hunched he remembered - and long hair, tie loosely. If he had thought, he would have surely asked himself what he was doing, but it seemed his mind had frozen, stopped functioning... and then Josh, almost unconsciously, dived into the darkness of the corridor. He blinked, trying to get used to sudden dimness. There was no light here, except for the one coming from the window in the roof, and this was aloft... His heart was beating so fast it seemed to jump out of his chest any moment, and he was so nervous he had to swallow all the time. Still, he was following Alain to wherever Alain was taking him.

The staircase, dim and silent, was also quite cool and slightly smelled of mould. Josh didn't pay attention to the scenery, yet he couldn't but notice that every level had five flats. There was no way to tell what kind of people could live in them. They climbed the winding stairs to stop on the second floor, where Alain opened one of the doors and went in, seemingly ignoring Josh. Josh had the last chance to flee... but he didn't think twice and followed the man, closing the door behind. He thought he would stop hearing any moment because of the humming in his head. He shouldn't have... He already knew he shouldn't have come here but... he had to look him in the face... look him in the eye... If he didn't, all that was in vain.

He attempted to calm down, at least physically. Alain disappeared inside the flat, while Josh stayed in the hall, breathing heavily and trying to overcome trembling. He looked around, pretty sure he would remember nothing of this place anyway if... when he leaved this place. Little corridor, he thought, opened out into the main room of the flat. The door to the left probably led to the bathroom. The apartment was situated between two others, so it was likely to be the smallest on the floor. Its windows looked out on the inner yard. No wonder it was so dim here; little light found its way inside, and Alain didn't seem like turning on the lamps, even though the day was cloudy.

Josh wiped away his face and pressed one hand against his chest, as if checking if his heart was still in its place. He could feel the fast pulse under his fingers - he knew it would stay like this throughout his visit here - but the feeling he was going to faint had receded. Slowly, he moved towards the room, with one hand sweeping the wall, as if to assure himself. As if he wanted to have some ground in this place he didn't know and where he couldn't expect anything good.

The room wasn't big but enough for one person. To the left was another door - leading to, Josh assumed, a small kitchen. There were little furniture here: a simple wardrobe, a narrow bed, a table with two chairs and a chest of drawers by the window. Nothing indicated any company Alain could have - a realization Josh welcomed with relief he didn't really admit. A mess - little but evident - also proved that Alain lived alone. And, definitely, there was no trace of feminine touch here. Josh imagined - maybe naively, as all his experience amounted to Cecile - that any woman would clean up those disorderedly scattered clothes and newspapers, not to mention the bottles, standing or lying here and there...

"I didn't expect guests, so..." the quiet words reached him, as if Alain was reading his mind, but the tone didn't show any guilt or apology, not at all. Quite the contrary, it was sarcastic.

Josh, however, didn't pay attention to the tone, absorbed by the fact he had at last... after three years... heard more than a whisper of Alain. Beyond all doubt, it _was_ Alain's voice...! Even if it sounded differently... Josh turned his head to look at him and squinted. Alain was standing against the window, his face dim in the shadow, and it took Josh a while to pick up the details. He suppressed the impulse to come closer to see better... Alain's stance didn't encourage to it: his arms folded, he was leaning against the frame in a way clearly indicating he was the boss here. In contrast, he had to see Josh perfectly... and Josh let him look, although every cell of his body urged him to run away. He clasped his hands together.

Finally, Alain got away from the frame and took one step... two steps in his direction. "I'd offer something to drink, but I'm afraid I've only hard liquor," he said mockingly. "Definitely not Earl Grey..."

Josh stirred but didn't move from the spot. Fascinated, he was staring at the face he could at _last_ see clearly. It was so familiar... and so strange. Fringed with long hair - both those falling on the forehead and those slipping out the binding on the nape and falling along - it had the same features, but they seemed sharper now. Green eyes, whose shy and slightly distrustful gaze Josh remembered, were now looking with open hostility. The lips were curved with a sneer that seemed glued - and was a warning as well. Normally, Josh would have step back... but the circumstances were all but normal, and thus he was just standing and, his eyes wide open, drinking in the sight of the man he had once loved with all his heart.

It _was_ Alain Corail - and it seemed to Josh he had only now realized it. As if, until now, he hadn't believed it or it had seemed a dream, something unreal... Alain Corail, who had disappeared from his life three years ago - to never return, or so Josh had thought - was standing here, in front of him, and Josh's heart, racing in his chest, was filled with only one though, one emotion: that if they were there - again - both - then e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g . w-a-s . s-t-i-l-l . p-o-s-s-i-b-l-e. His common sense was screaming at him, but Josh ignored it. Time for thinking and analysing would be later; now he was focusing on the moment. He felt faint - and stronger than ever. His breathing was quick, racing pulse threatened with losing consciousness, his head was spinning again - and he felt he would explode any moment, due to the elation that had overtaken him.

Everything was still possible.

He realized he hadn't said a word since he'd come here. His mind was all chaotic; he couldn't pull a sentence together. Alain didn't speak either, but he had never been a talker to begin with. Josh opened his mouth... and closed it again, biting his lips. What could he say? 'Hi, Alain. Nice to see you again. How are you?' Ridiculous...

Nervously, he lifted one hand and brushed hair from his forehead. He was still trembling. "I..." he started and paused, amazed at how hoarse his voice was.

Something flickered in Alain's eyes, some warning... but in his present state Josh had absolutely no chance to react in time... and the next thing he knew he was lying in the bed, pressed down by the strong body, unable to move, while Alain was leaning down... his expression wild, determined, cruel... and reaching to his mouth...

It was like a star exploding in his head. Josh felt that, in a moment, in a half of second... he would completely lose control of himself - and, in the same time, everything inside him yelled in a fierce objection. No...! He couldn't let it happen! It was not that he'd... come here for...! He had to do something... he had to...!

He turned his head aside, escaping Alain's mouth and catching his breath. "I came here... to talk...!" he uttered, trying to wrench himself free and failing.

Alain laughed quietly, almost softly, but so mockingly... and then he moved one hand onto Josh's crotch, and new fire flared up under Josh's eye-lids when he felt the touch of that hand, almost friendly and inviting, through the fabric of trousers... He gasped. No...! He couldn't...

"Did you?" Alain asked in a low voice, bending down over his ear. "It seems something different to me. I wonder how many guys you've banged so far...

Josh couldn't suppress an indignant cry, even though it was pretty weak... No, he wasn't having it... The thought Alain suspected him of such things seemed to clear his mind... He couldn't stay here. He had to get out of here... at once...!

He realized Alain had taken his right hand from his shoulder and was now holding him down with the left one only... It was his chance. He swung and hit Alain in the face as hard as he could. Alain gave a cry of pain and surprise - the smile vanished from his lips, and his eyes grew wider - and bounced back, letting Josh out. Josh rolled over, jumped out of bed and flounced out of the flat. He ran down the stairs three at time and rushed into the street, and didn't stop running, he ran and ran, until he was short of breath and had to stop and bend down, and gasp for breath...

As his heart and breathing rates were returning into normal range and the darkness before his eyes was vanishing, Josh tried to pull himself together into a whole being again, for temporarily he felt he consisted of separate pieces swirling in chaos, occasionally and randomly bumping into one another. His head, arms and legs - he had all of them, and they were in their places. His chest was hurting, his mouth tasted metallic - he definitely was himself. He took another breath and another, as much as it took...

What had he... done? How could he be so... reckless? He hadn't expected... though he should have. He should have expected the worst... Right? He had been too optimistic and had made another mistake that could have proven disastrous. It was a close call; something pretty bad had nearly happened...

At last, he was able to straighten up. He realized he had run as far as to the river. He was now standing by the bridge, and squeal of the gulls was filling his ears, that could catch noises of the world again. He leaned against the balustrade and stared at the glossy surface. The sun was shining through the clouds, lighting the town up and calming its inhabitants. The air seemed to have freshened up after the earlier stuffiness. An older lady was walking her dog. A young married couple stopped at the bridge; a little boy was showing at something in the river from his father arms, and a girl in a stroller was holding a doll. Everything was all right.

Something bad could have happened... But it hadn't.

Somewhat shocked, Josh realized he... didn't regret it. Only a quarter ago he had been absolutely sure he hadn't wanted to see Alain Corail ever again... that anything he had hoped for had appeared to be a pipe dream, unable to ever being fulfilled. Well, he would not get far with _that_ Alain. The man seemed like a... wild beast... aiming at satisfying its needs... attaching no importance to the fact Josh was a living person. Josh could still remember - feel! - the steep grip of Alain's fingers when the man had pinned him against the bed. It would surely leave bruises... Really, he was very lucky that he had managed to get away from there.

No, he didn't want to have anything to do with such Alain. But, as much as he had just learned about Alain's worst side (at least he assumed, maybe naively, it was the worst), as much he knew that Alain... had also the other one: gentle and, in a way, caring. He remembered it, didn't he? He remembered that time that wasn't a figment of his imagination: two months when he could see with his own eyes what kind of a person Alain could be. Had been. Towards him. It was hard to reconcile those two, such different, aspects of the same person - had he not seen it himself, he surely wouldn't have believed it - but he had sufficient grounds for doing so.

And, he suddenly realized, he hadn't been scared for a second during the whole incident. He had been feeling many emotions - agitation, objection, anger, as well as hope - but not fear. Okay, he did fear that what Alain _could_ do to him, but he didn't fear Alain himself. It was probably that carefree and naive part of him again, but... deep inside, he didn't really believe Alain could hurt him. His cruelty consisted and found expression in something different... which Josh didn't intend to bother now.

In the current Alain, he would have to bring out the previous Alain: the reasonable man who one could normally talk with and straighten the things out. Who would hear and understand how much he had meant to Josh and how much he had hurt him. For his part, Josh didn't know whether he wanted to hear Alain's reason for having acted like he had... Anyway, what would happen later was yet to be seen. The manly part of Josh told him that, in the worst case, they would part as friends and each of them would go his own way, unbound by the past. The part that wasn't that strong and firm had different hopes... but those he didn't want to formulate even in mind.

He could still remember how he had felt upon realizing it had been really Alain Corail, standing before him. That time, oblivious to anything, he was ready to hurl himself in the man's arms absolutely sure he would be embraced by them.

Strange, now even this thought induced no guilt in him - after all, was there anything wrong to it?

Still, he was proud of himself. He had almost... _let_ Alain do to him what the man apparently had wanted. He couldn't dismiss the truth any more: under Alain's touch he lost any control of himself. Not that it was strange. If he remembered right, his interest in Alain had been physical at first: Alain had attracted him as a man. Affection had appeared later. That time - in another life, it seemed - Josh desired Alain carnally and hadn't had any difficulty with imagining them as lovers. Now, only a moment ago, when Alain had wanted to take by force what Josh would have gladly give him of his own free will... Yes, it had taken real effort to push him away.

He stared at his hands.

He had hit him. Involuntarily, automatically, instinctively. He had been defending himself. He had been offended. He had been mad. He couldn't let Alain do that to him. He couldn't let it happen... that way. Josh considered himself (or had once considered) a temperamental person, all right, but he didn't accept any violence towards himself, even less in sex. Being chased was a one thing, but being raped was quite another. As if it wasn't him but... anyone. Alain had acted as if it had been all the same to him who had been there - well, it appeared this way, but Josh was pretty sure Alain had known perfectly well it had been him, Joshua Or.

He let his arms fall and stared at the river again, not really seeing it.

Why... Why Alain had treated him like that? Not then... Now. Why had he been... _so_? He had been acting as if he... hated Josh. His chest ached, and he swallowed. The only option was, probably, to ask directly - and this thought made him feel both anxious and relieved. Anxious - because... he didn't know what answer he would hear. Relief was due to the fact they were finally at the stage he could ask directly and didn't have to weave, lurk and stalk - which he had realized today morning.

In any case, Josh couldn't find any reason why Alain hated him, which meant that either that reason remained elusive to him or... Alain had... deluded something about him.

He felt cold. No, he didn't want to think about it. He moved away from the balustrade and started walking. He tried to find some vision that would keep him warm. It wasn't that hard... only slightly perverted, given he was doing it in broad daylight and in the middle of the street - but he didn't care at all. Soon, he was striding with his cheeks burning, lost in the memory of Alain's lips and touch of his hands... With the proviso that he didn't like Alain's brutality in the slightest, he could claim that his erotic experience had been increased per two hundred percent during a few moments... Once in three years? Well, it wasn't an impressing pace - surely, nothing to brag about to, say, Robert Jade, who had come to his mind all of the sudden - but he shouldn't be so strict with himself.

He realized he was laughing out loud when he saw a smiling face of a little girl accompanying him with a joie de vivre typical for children of her age. He looked at her mother who was smiling at him warmly, and then he stroke the little one on her fair head.

He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so light at heart.

* * *

_Your hell burns in me, you are my elixir of life - "Out of the dark", Falco_


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**  
_**(stumbling, falling, crawling, trying to reach for you)**_

* * *

Josh slept - what a surprise - pretty bad that night, but in the morning he was so excited he didn't give a damn about any physical feeling of being tired. He had spent the previous day walking until late and trying to pull himself together, one way or another. Now, during the bath, he was astonished to realize that quite a while had passed since the last time he'd been so focused. It seemed to him he had waked up from a long dream in which his mind had been wrapped in wool, separated from any stimuli and thus unused of working. When studying, it had been impossible for him to concentrate like this - he had been learning by rote, not really thinking about it and quickly forgetting the material - and now he felt he was in the very core of the problem, using every possible measure to solve it. His brain was working at full capacity.

It was an incredible feeling, one he thought he'd already forgotten, as well as the fact he had once been considered a brilliant person...

The problem absorbed him completely - and, above all, the _desire_ to face it. It was new, too - and wasn't at the same time. Once, it had been as natural as breathing to him - when doing and aiming at something, he would engage in it heart and soul - and disappeared only later... 'If I could apply only half of that enthusiasm to studying...' he thought ironically. But no, he wasn't going to think of studying now. Even though there had been a time when - which seemed an abstract concept - Alain and studying would go hand in hand. Josh snorted, imagining what kind of face Alain would do when being reminded of their joint learning in high school...

He felt light at heart. He knew he was being unwise and his acting could be seen as silly - but he couldn't help it. He didn't intend to reproach himself for being happy about having met Alain, regardless of the quality of that meeting. Too long had he been feeling guilty about everything and confirming himself in the conviction he had no chances. It was high time to change it. He deserved it, didn't he...?

Today, he was even more optimistic than yesterday.

Nevertheless, he waited a moment before he knocked at the door through which he had run in such a haste the previous day. He hoped it would not happen today, too. His heart was racing, his body was so tense... But he'd come here with a goal on his mind, and he didn't plan to give up. He knocked again, firmly - or so he'd intended but failed... Well, his hand was trembling. He took half a step back and was waiting, the hum in his head drowning out all noises again so he couldn't hear a thing.

He really couldn't hear a thing. He frowned. Did he really have to be so unlucky in all he did? Either Alain was out or... didn't feel like receiving anyone. Josh supposed the latter was more probable. 'Maybe I should fake being a postman?' he thought nearly hysterically, lifting one hand to knock again. He hoped the staircase wasn't acoustic enough to bring friendly neighbours here, curious about his banging at the door of the apartment... number 8, as the placard announced. Then, however, the door was opened abruptly, revealing Alain, who seemed firstly displeased, and secondly surprised.

Josh gulped and let his arm fall, trying to overcome the trembling. Again, he was looking in Alain's green eyes behind the fringe - and again was he lost for words. He forgave himself at once, but for an instant - for just an instant - he was struck by the hopelessness of the whole situation and his plans. How could he ever count on... anything with that man? Yet, he pulled himself together and brushed dark thoughts aside, trying to make up some excuse for his visit instead. Though, he realized then, did he really need it? He had a feeling that he and Alain understood each other without words... without superfluous talking. Funny, only he didn't feel like laughing at all.

"What do you want?" Alain spoke, and Josh didn't let the bluntness of that question and hostile tone get to him.

"I want to talk."

"Get out of here," Alain said, lowering his voice.

Josh was looking him in the eye, so he couldn't miss the shadow crossing his face when the man spoke those words. It was as if... though Alain was still standing in the doorway... it seemed as if he had just stepped back. Pulled back.

"I came here to talk," Josh repeated, mustering all his strength in order to sound firm.

Now Alain really stepped back, his eyes growing wider, which he probably didn't realize himself. And then the man turned around and went inside the flat, pressing his lips tight. Josh couldn't be sure in the dim of the staircase, but it seemed to him Alain's face grew paler. However, when he slipped in the room, Alain had managed to put on his normal expression: that mocking smirk and that hateful gaze. With faked politeness, he showed Josh the chair, himself taking the one on the other side of the table. Josh gulped and took the seat - welcoming the peculiar safety such a distribution was giving with relief he didn't want to admit.

Alain was looking at him across the table, smiling sinisterly. His green eyes were narrowed, the mole under the left one invisible between his eyelashes, and his hair was falling along his face. He seemed to have shaved; yesterday, stubble had been shadowing his mandible...

Josh averted his gaze, for suddenly he couldn't look him in the eye - likely due to that expression he started to grow tired of. Once, he remembered it, he had wished Alain smiled more... But he didn't mean that! With such a face Alain was... appalling. It was even not about what that expression implied: what Alain was capable of - but how much it wasn't like the Alain whose image Josh was bearing in his mind. Right, he had come here to seek for that Alain.

He must have gone mad.

He looked around and knitted his brow. Something was different, and it took him a while to realize the place had been cleaned up. The clothes that had been scattered all over only yesterday were gone now, the newspapers had been piled up together, and the bottles... He looked back. It seemed the bottles had been in the plastic bag by the kitchen door. He blinked. Alain... had _cleaned up_? For his coming? For... him? - a silly thought occurred to him.

Some of this must have been reflected on his face, for Alain said, "Don't flatter yourself. I decided we'll be more comfortable without extra content in the bed."

Josh's head snapped, and he looked at Alain agitatedly, aware he was blushing. Alain... couldn't assume...! How could he say...! Besides, he didn't even look like a person thinking of anything... intimate.

"Or wherever you feel like," Alain added, waving his hand around and smiling nastily.

No, he couldn't mean anything 'intimate', rather some brute and primitive act aimed at... violating... reducing to dust... Josh suppressed a shiver. He had to be careful. He had to be on guard in order to not let it happen... not lose, on no account, not lose control over the situation. Remain calm - even if his heart was beating just below the maximum rate and his head was buzzing.

"I didn't come her to sha-" he started and bit his tongue. "I didn't come here for that."

"Now that's a news," Alain replied smoothly. "After all, have you ever not come to me 'for that'?"

What?!

Josh refrained from banging against the table and tried to stifle a rage that started welling up in him. _Remain calm,_ he reminded himself, _at all cost._ He would not have Alain unnerve him... although doing so didn't seem a problem to the man, who probably remained oblivious to it. Josh thought fleetingly how come they had once spent two moths together...

Never mind. What had Alain said? That Josh _wanted it himself_? On what grounds...? Even if Josh _would have nothing against_... making love with Alain, it was not what urged him to act...!

"I didn't come here to sleep with you," he said coolly - or, at least, he tried to. "Not now, nor before."

Alain squinted. "Beautiful lies of those lips. It seemed something different to me yesterday. Shall I check it today as well?" he asked.

Josh felt dizzy due to a hot wave surging in him. For a split second, he wished he was a girl. Absurd... But he was above it; he'd always been. He focused his gaze on Alain. "I can't help that my body reacts like this." _Even now, damn it_. "I was born this way," he said straight, looking Alain in the eye, and then added, "If you touch me, I'll smack you. Like yesterday."

Alain stopped smiling. Maybe, an optimistic voice spoke in Josh's head, that was how he should interact with the man? Keep him at distance, do not show any submission... If he remembered correctly, once he had used to _intimidate_ Alain; he could as well try to figure out whether it still held true, even if now it seemed Alain was a completely different person. Why, did he have anything to lose? Well, yeah, it _could_ be that he drew the opposite reaction he wanted. And Alain wasn't a person one should play with... But what else could he do in order to have this conversation? In order to move on, somehow...? He had a thousand possibilities to choose from, but each of them was an unknown - which meant each one would do. Besides, he had already learned that it was no use to plan anything in advance in regard to Alain Corail. He had to react instantly, never let the man surprise him, control the situation and keep calm. He had to know what he wanted.

"Then, you admit..." Alain's voice interrupted his chaotic and agitated thoughts, and this time it sounded as if the man wasn't sure what it was he really wanted to say.

"What?" Josh snarled, frowning and preparing for the blow.

"That you're... That you're one fucking queer...!"

Slap.

This time, Josh's agility surprised even him. Everything had happened in a flash, and once he realized it, he was standing, breathing heavily, his right hand lifted... and Alain was looking at him with eyes wide opened - his shock evident - and his left cheek getting more and more red.

Josh tried to calm again. Alain... hadn't said anything new... he even hadn't said anything that wasn't true... But, for some reason, Josh wouldn't listen to such words coming from him. And... that tone...! Disgusted, haughty, disdained... He couldn't!

However, if he were to forget himself at Alain's every remark, it wouldn't end well. After all, he had known it wouldn't be an easy talk. Hadn't he?! Slowly, he sat down - a voice in his head reminded him to keep his distance - taking a deep breath... He looked at Alain again and squinted. _So, that's the way we're going to talk, Mister Corail?_

"Let me remind you it's this fucking queer you've been trying to shag since yesterday, so I don't think you're in the position to throw stones," he said with a faked composition, wrenching his hands under the table.

"I..." Alain started and paused. "It's your fault," he added in a whisper, looking from under his fringe.

Josh felt like yelling at him, but he merely raised his brows instead. His fault? Had that man really not grown up?

Maybe he hadn't.

"What is my fault?" he asked, bracing himself for another revelation he expected to hear.

Alain stared blankly at him for a moment, and then he waved his hand rather vaguely. "This. Everything."

"Which means?!" Josh raised his voice.

Now Alain seemed to have lost his patience - apparently, he didn't feel well as the one being cornered - for he banged his fists on the table. Josh blinked and leaned back in his chair. He didn't intend to get scared... but he would be better off outside Alain's reach.

"You... What have you done to me?"

"What have I done to you?" Josh called out impatiently. "Could you please, for once, talk clearly?"

"You..." Alain seemed to be trying hard to find right words. "You've possessed me! You wanted... wanted..." Here was where his eloquence ended, though.

Josh stared at him like at an idiot. Possessed? When? How? Suddenly, he couldn't resist the impression he was talking with a five years old. "What? I don't understand what you're talking about," he said loud and clear. _However, I know that if anyone here had possessed anyone, it would be you in regard to me,_ he thought.

"That time... You were stil a kid, yet... It didn't stop you from... luring me... seducing me..."

Josh blinked. "Don't play innocent with me," he said coldly, consciously ignoring the truth of the word 'seducing'. "You're three years older than me," he pointed out. "Besides... Have I ever gave you to understand that I-" _wanted to make love to you_, "wanted to go to bed with you?" _Even if I wanted that more than anything..._

Alain was giving him a mistrustful look and didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't believe you," he spoke finally, although with some hesitation. "All that studying... playing friends..." he added mockingly, "it was... a lie."

"It wasn't a lie!" Josh interrupted him, getting on his feet again. He hadn't expected such a turn. So, that was how Alain had felt about their acquaintance? All the time? Or just later? "I enjoyed every day with you...! Whatever we were doing, it was... great," he finished weakly. "It was really great... Why can't you believe me?!"

"I remember what they used to say about you. I bet you bragged about your little success with a fourth-year..."

"I didn't brag! Besides... What 'success'? You regard me successful?" Josh asked dully. "For my part, I think that-" He paused. "Spare yourself those accusations. I remind you it was you who... kissed me," he whispered, and then he pressed his lips into a thin line and sat down again.

"It was your fault," Alain repeated, lowering his eyes. "Everyone would lose one's head over-"

He didn't finish, and Josh, with a sudden dizziness, wondered whether Alain hadn't tried to say something he should consider a compliment. 'Focus, Josh,' he ordered himself. 'Don't forget what you're here for.'

Alain raised his head and cast a look at him. His lips curved with that obnoxious sneer again, and Josh knew he was going to hear nothing pleasant. "You spare no-one, don't you?" Alain asked in an undertone, and now there was clear disgust in his voice, although it seemed to Josh it was mixed with some morbid fascination. "You only arrived here, yet you've struck lucky already..."

Josh blinked.

"However, it seems the bloke's taken to heart what I told him about you since I haven't seen him hanging around your house any more."

Josh was under the impression the precipice had opened under his feet and he was falling down... He clenched the edges of the chair with both hands and tried to digest... no, _assimilate_ what he had just heard. Too much... too much content... information.

He refrain from shaking his head; making an idiot of himself wouldn't do. 'Get a grip,' he snarled at himself in thought. One thing at a time. Alain apparently was referring to... Guillaume. He must have seen them both, which meant... he'd had to... "You were at Erwin's wedding," he whispered, trying to take control over his emotions.

Apparently, it disconcerted Alain, but then the man's eyes flashed somewhat provokingly. "You stood out pretty much," he said as if it explained anything. "Don't-"

"What did you care?!" Josh raised his voice again, agitated. "Were you following me? Were you spying on me?! What did you care who I was with? And where I was..." _when you hadn't cared for three years at all._

He took a deep breath, trying to understand anything and failing completely. His mind was running in circles, unable to come to any conclusions, so it was better to focus on what he had already known.

Alain... _Alain_ was the reason why Guillaume had decided to part with him? But, wait, something was not right. Josh drove away a headache, arranging the events of the last few days in his head. The wedding had taken place on Saturday, followed by the party. Guillaume had started to act... strangely during the party, while he had been pretty... enthusiastic prior to it. Very like him. But why had he claimed it was Xavier Something, then...? It made no sense. Then, maybe he had made it up...? Could it be he hadn't wanted to admit he had... met Alain? If he hadn't wanted, then... No, it didn't stick either. Guillaume was almost as tall as Alain, and more heavily built. Alain couldn't have scared him.

Though, judging from Alain's madness the man seemed to have fallen into, no-one should trifle with him. He appeared capable of anything now. Josh though he probably was very brave - or very foolish - if he was sitting here and trying to have a logical conversation with him. Or both.

"What did you do to him?" he asked, for some part of him wanted to know. "And when?"

Alain looked at him from under his fringe, visibly pleased with himself. Josh suppressed a sigh. "On Sunday. We... ran into each other in the city."

'Ran,' sure... In some dark lane probably. But no, what it was Alain had implied earlier? That Guillaume had been sticking around outside... "Really? Or maybe around Erwin's house?" he asked somewhat ironic.

Alain's eyes narrowed again, but Joshed felt more resigned than threatened.

Honestly, this sounded like an absurd. He had made Guillaume's acquaintance only one day earlier - and one day later they had already 'split up'. It was such a... minuscule, such an insignificant episode in his existence. He would have forgotten it in a few days completely... Alain's reaction seemed so... abnormally exaggerated. He hadn't been there for three years, and then suddenly he stepped in Josh's life and started to... arrange it as he pleased. Unbelievable.

"Why did you do it?" he asked and was amazed to hear how impassive his voice was.

But, he realized right away, Guillaume Azur had really meant nothing to him, so there was nothing to get angry about. Besides... deep inside - could he admit it? - he didn't feel angry at Alain... only grateful. All right, he didn't like - he definitely didn't like - such an interference in his life, _especially_ from the man who had once checked out of it, but... He couldn't help it; the thought gave him a funny feeling.

However, it quickly vanished. "I couldn't..." Alain started, hesitantly, but then he suddenly changed the tone. "I thought it would be bad if another bloke ended like me. I warned him he should keep away from you," he drawled with such venom that it made Josh's heart stop.

"W-what...?" he uttered.

Now Alain was looking at him, his eyes narrowed, his face contorted with hate, and his lips twisted... And if he had seemed a lunatic earlier, now he had an air of a very dangerous man to himself. Josh clenched the edge of his chair again.

"I tried... I was..." Alain was breathing quickly, and it was clear that the conversation was no longer pleasing him. However, once he'd started, he couldn't stop. "I wanted to be a normal guy... To have a woman... a wife... and family... Like others. I tried... It was what I wanted. But you...! You came... turned my head... possessed me! I wanted to forget you! But... I couldn't. I don't know what you did to me. You ruined my life...! It's all your fault."

Josh took a deep breath. If not for the pain in his chest, he would surely decided it was almost comical. Alain should point an accusing finger at him, too, when shouting out his complaints... In any case, Josh had never seen him so upset and hadn't expected to ever see. If Alain was in such a state, he must have felt so... Probably even worse. Probably he couldn't articulate most of what he felt.

Josh couldn't deny Alain's words filled him with remorse. But, at the same time... It was so unjust, so one-sided, so... childish. So unfair. He couldn't just listen to those accusations and say nothing. There were already far too many things in his life he felt responsible for so that he could accept some new...!

"Right, you were supposed to get marry," he said, his voice emotionless, staring blankly at some point behind Alain. "But you ran away from the altar, too," he whispered.

"You're going to blame me for it as well?!" Alain called out.

Josh felt silent. Was he? If that wedding had taken place, they wouldn't even be here, but... "Have you ever though how that girl must have felt?" he asked dully, focusing his gaze on the man. Alain snorted, and now Josh felt like hitting him twice as hard as earlier. "Don't you think you should finally grow up and take responsibility for your deeds?" he went on. "Stop running away. Just like... Just like you did with Robert and Georges. And Grace," he whispered.

Alain glared at him, a warning flickering in his eyes. "They have nothing to do with this," he said quietly.

"They don't," Josh agreed. "But you still do the same thing... and blame others. Just like you blame me... now..." He swallowed. "_You_ kissed me then. And _you_ left me, " he whispered.

Alain was still looking at him, but it seemed to Josh he had difficulties with bearing his sight.

"I could say it is _your_ fault. Just like you've just said," he spoke quietly. "That... yeah, that you've _seduced_ me, turned a kid's head... and disappeared, thrown me out of your life and forgotten... How does it sound?" he asked but couldn't muster any irony. "But it wouldn't be true. I... really _loved_ you and I really _wanted_... to be with you, any way it was possible... But I never, ever, wanted to simply shag you," he whispered, feeling his strength vanish, although he'd been so charged only a while ago when he'd come here. "You may not believe me when I say that I'm still... I've never... with anyone..." He lowered his head. "If it was so hard to you, you should have said... Say, 'Joshua, it won't work for me', or, 'I can't.' Or, 'I'm not into men.' I'd understand, really." He would. "I don't expect anyone to fall in love with me." He never had. "But you... preferred to vanish... without a word... I didn't need apology, but a simple goodbye."

For a moment, he was under the impression the room was swaying. He closed his eyes. He felt bad. He had said everything he'd wanted for so long... yet he felt worse than before. Maybe it had something to do with Alain's silence... He'd rather Alain said something, anything... Even if Alain would probably say something terrible, something which would make Josh feel even worse...

But Alain remained quiet, and the silence prolonged. Why...? He felt like the most wretched person in the world again. It was like rubbing salt in the wounds that had yet to be healed. Why ever did he have to excuse himself for his feelings? Why did Alain have so distorted picture of the matter? Why couldn't he just believe him? Why did he have to be so damn distrustful?

A voice in Josh's head reminded him he wasn't the most trusting person himself. It was true... but the realization didn't make anything more easier. Not at all.

What had happened to their bond? Josh couldn't forget those moments - now they seemed but a dream - when Alain had ever showed that he'd cared. Like when he'd been helping him with his study... or paid him visit when Josh had been sick... or when Josh had sprained his ankle... And many more, small but so wonderful. They had been together - and they'd felt good. Hadn't they? While now... Alain's words only hurt, full of hatred and disdain...

He heard the chair scraping the floor - Alain got up from his place, went round the table and stopped next to him. Josh opened his eyes when the strong hand took his chin - neither gently nor brutally, only firmly. Alain made him look up, but for some reason Josh couldn't face him. Maybe he was scared of what he could see in Alain's eyes... Or maybe he was scared of what Alain could see in his? Or maybe he felt too dizzy...

Then Alain said softly yet clearly, "Nothing you say will make me believe you."

Now Josh focused his gaze on him, aware that his expression must have been that of a strange mixture of fear and pain. Alain smiled with that smile that Josh couldn't stand. "Let go..." he said quietly, trying to get free, but Alain only moved the thumb along his mandible and smiled wider. He looked like a madman.

"But... we don't need to believe each other to be together, right?" he added in a whisper.

Josh felt the well-known pain in his chest - the one he had managed to forget in last two days. Suddenly, he had no strength. He knew, felt with all himself he had to get up, leave... before something irreparable happened - but couldn't. If he left... he would never come back... and to say goodbye to Alain when he had just got him ba- met him... He just couldn't do it.

"Let go," he whispered again, but the hand on his chin seized him tighter, and he closed his eyes involuntarily.

Then, however, the grasp loosened, and the fingers - almost delicately - brushed the hair from his head and eyes. He lifted his eyelids and returned Alain's green gaze as the man was regarding his face with some captivation.

"Witchcraft... You have the eyes of a witch, too," the man spoke in a voice that, in different circumstances, would pass as fascinated.

Josh didn't manage to suppress a moan. He no longer knew what he felt and wanted himself. Some part of him wanted to be left alone... while another longed for being touched... No, he couldn't... He had to go... His head was spinning, he tried to get up, but Alain stopped him. Josh raised his face up to him... but couldn't see clearly...

"Let go," he repeated the words his will had seemed to narrow.

The grasp on his shoulders only grew stronger. Josh tried to focus his sight, it seemed to him he was going to lose consciousness... or control... he needed some air... he opened his mouth... Alain wasn't listening... leaned down... Josh turned his head, and Alain's moist lips touched his cheek... and then moved down onto the neck...

"Let go..." Josh whispered, feeling the panic overwhelm him.

"I will never let go of you," he heard the answer.

Or so he thought. Buzzing in his head, intensifying for a while, drowned out all noises. His heart was racing like mad... he was trembling all over... He felt he was suffocating... couldn't move... couldn't see a thing, only darkness... He felt only those hands moving up and down his neck and the lips that had found his face again...

He screamed. In fact, he'd wanted to scream, but only a whine had come from his lips. Like in the nightmare one wants to wake up from but can't - wants to scream but can't. Alain jerked away from him, was saying something... _Breathe, breathe..._ Josh inhaled, deeply, and again...

"Let go," he whispered and realized Alain was no longer holding him. His cheeks were wet, and he wiped them, trying to get the world in order again. Slowly, he started to distinguish the details before his eyes. The bright spot of a window, and against it Alain's silhouette, a few steps from him. The room filled with grey light of a cloudy day. Everything was like before... Only his head was aching more and more, and his chest felt heavy. But he no longer had that terrifying sensation he was going to faint.

Alain had let go of him. Good. Nothing had happened. The tears were still flowing; he wiped them with a sleeve. He had to go. He got up, supporting himself on the backrest - in case he felt dizzy again, but he didn't. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. He made it to the hall and started walking down the stairs, blindfold. He couldn't see much due to the tears - and was wondering why he was crying.

Maybe because he knew he would never come here again.

* * *

_"Wunderbar", Deine Lakaien_


	9. Chapter 9

**9.**  
_**(oddaję ci serce, oddaję ci ciało, czego pragniesz jeszcze, bym mogła z tobą być?)**_

* * *

Josh spent the next day in bed - either curled under the cover or staring at the ceiling. He left it only once - to feet the cat, demanding its meal - and then returned to his hiding place where he didn't need to show his face to anyone nor see anyone. The telephone rang a few times, but Josh didn't feel like talking with Erwin, even less with someone else.

He couldn't find words for describing what he felt. Well, today it already was, like, subdued, and he even could reflect on it. Yesterday... He wished he could forget the previous day. He had come home semi-conscious, jittery, certain he would burst into tears any moment... It hadn't been his normal behaviour, but he hadn't thought of it at all. In fact, he hadn't thought of anything, a bundle of nerves and emotions... Only today he managed to relive the events, although he was far from being calm about them. No, it wasn't it: he _was_ calm, almost apathetic. Only whenever he started (started? he was doing it all the time) considering the matter of Alain... he was under the impression he was going to fall to pieces.

Disappointment. Discouragement. Defeat. Waving goodbye to his dreams. Feeling it was all in vain. He couldn't hope for anything. He really couldn't. Alain... There were no warm feelings on Alain's part. There was hatred, grievance and resentment. He blamed Josh - and, in a way, _was_ right... It wasn't something one could build on... and Josh had no strength to clean the debris up.

A voice in his head noticed he had given up pretty fast; Josh was well aware of it. Once, he would never give up but advance - it'd used to be his motto. In different times... in different life, he would fight, definitely not become discouraged upon encountering one adversity... But not now, when he was so... broken. Now, he didn't see another option than leave and close the door behind. Forget that Alain Corail had ever belonged to his life.

The thought caused unbearable pain in his chest.

Regardless of how much he wanted Alain back, he had to be realistic. In the first place, he had to take care of himself. No-one else would do it for him, right? And even if someone wanted... Josh wouldn't let them; he knew himself that much. He had to protect himself - from, of course, Alain, who had hurt him so many times and, it seemed, didn't intend to stop hurting him... It seemed he perceived Josh as an object to vent his aggression on. They had met three times, and all three were an attack. Sure, nothing had happened - but the next could be the one something did happen. Especially that Josh - which he reluctantly acknowledged - couldn't really resist the man. He knew he would give up, sooner or later. Maybe in five... ten years he would stop turning putty to Alain's touch and lose control of himself, but it was not this time. He was very lucky nothing had happened yesterday...

He had no recollection of how their... talk had ended. First, Alain had shouted out his accusations, while Josh had tried to convince him it'd been not like that... And then Alain had attempted to... violate him. Actually, the last thing Josh remembered was his words, 'I will never let go of you'... What had happened next remained completely blurred. Josh apparently had... broken down and cried, and it was what had made Alain leave him alone. Yes, he had definitely cried. Normally, he would have felt awful for showing such weakness, especially that way, especially with Alain - he was a grown up man, for God's sake! - but now it made no difference to him. After all... he didn't intend to see him any more.

Yes, he had to take care of himself. He would leave Idealo. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow at the very latest. He would drop the key round Cecile's parents' place. He would leave Erwin a letter with an explanation why he couldn't stay. Maybe he would even be frank about what had happened. Erwin would surely understand him. Erwin had always wished him well, hadn't he? As had Cecile. He would invite them... one day... to visit him in Paris. He couldn't come to Idealo again. If he wanted to survive and regain some minimal balance in his life, he had to act reasonably. Never expose himself to danger or pain. He had always known it.

However, he couldn't quite shake off the feeling of hopelessness. The question, 'What for?' lurked on the edge of his consciousness, waiting for the right time to appear.

* * *

The next day, he dragged himself out of the bed around noon and started executing his plan. He had made a decision and could stick to it, which calmed him a bit. It filled him with some purpose, helped him to act. He went to the railway station to inquire after the train and buy the ticket - which took him inexplicably long. He attributed it to his weakness; he was dizzy, so he didn't force himself to any effort. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten; he had no appetite...

Having purchased the ticket, he looked at it blankly - departure tomorrow morning - and tried to drive away the thought it was going to be his last departure from Idealo. But, he checked himself, one should learn from one's mistakes. He had set off a year ago, tried, left everything behind... He should have stayed there. Well, sure, he'd had to be present at Erwin's wedding - but he should have returned to Paris right away. There was no life for him here, no peace... Now, he hadn't been here even two weeks... yet so much had happened. He hadn't wanted to suffer any more - yet he suffered. New hopes and even greatest regrets - was it worth it? Now he had to be wiser. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

He chased away the reflection he hadn't been alive for a long time.

His last day in Idealo. Maybe he should give the town a special look? Maybe he should... say goodbye to it?

He raised his head and squinted. July. The height of summer. It was so hot people preferred to stay inside; in the evening, once it cooled down a bit, they would crowd the streets and parks again. Only those insensitive to heat were walking and basking in the sun, finding pleasure in every warm sunbeam.

Slowly, Josh moved on, staring at the silhouette of the city. It was so... unreal. Deep inside, he didn't feel he had to depart, leave this place to never come back. Well, maybe 'never' was an overstatement... but for a longer time anyway. Some years, at least. One day he would return. The buildings would be the same: some run-down, while other renovated. The shop windows would be invitingly colourful like now. The Town Hall, the General Hospital, the urban schools... the Cathedral.

For a moment, he looked at the outline of the church against the pale sky... and then made his way towards the cemetery. A lady by the gate merely gave him a look and agreed to sell him a small bouquet for the pennies he had left after having purchased the ticket. Grateful, he bowed to her, clutching the bunch of marigolds, and headed among the graves. He wondered whether he would find the place... But he had used to come here often enough; his legs would know the way. First, a bit along the main alley, then turn left by that big headstone, and then right...

He had never got used to the fact Grace had died so young; the inscription had always shocked him. 'She was younger than me...' Undoubtedly, during eighteen years one could experience many good things - and bad, too, like him - but still... She'd had the whole life ahead of her. She could have live through so much more, achieve so much more.

And then he stopped thinking about it upon realizing he couldn't tell the same words himself.

He laid the flowers down. He was sure she'd liked the flowers. Her very name made him think of something fair, soft and warm. About light. He wished he could meet her. Maybe if she were alive, everything would be easier.

'Hi, Alain's sister,' he called to her. 'I came to say goodbye... for there's no-one else I can. Erwin and Cecile are out. Robert and Georges... I don't even know where they could be. And Alain... It will be better for him if I'm not around. I... wanted to be with him. To stay with him. But he wouldn't let me. You know, Grace, it didn't work for us, but... I hope that one day... with someone else... he will be happy. Take care of him, Grace. He is like... a child. He needs someone to take care of him. But not me. I... can't. I suppose it just had to be this way. Maybe... maybe he really... wished he were... normal, and I messed up his life? Then, it will really be better if I'm not around."

Grace remained silent, but he hadn't expected her to answer. He had to overcome another dizziness. He shouldn't stay out in the sun... On the other hand, he wasn't a kid any more. It would go away in a minute.

He really had no-one to say goodbye to, he thought, walking towards the exit. Pathetic. But he had brought it down on himself, dropping from all relationships. He had always counted on himself and tried to manage on his own. He didn't bother others with his problems, and when he felt bad... then he suffered alone. He was made this way. He could blame only himself, but... he just couldn't act otherwise. He might as well try to change his head.

Actually, there was one place he wanted to say goodbye to - and he wasn't surprised when turning into the Saint Grollo Avenue the next moment. Very quiet that time of year, it took him to the main gate of the campus, that, engulfed in silence and scent of the lime trees, seemed to have been here since the beginning - just like it had been present in Josh's life for so long. The wide alley led to the dormitory, barely visible from behind the trees. To the left was the path to the school building and the chapel. For a moment, Josh simply looked through the high slats and then entered.

Even air seemed different here. Had it really been just a year since he'd left those walls? It felt much longer... And then he thought it seemed only yesterday. Everything was just like he remembered it. During seven years of staying here, he had managed to explore the place very well. Saying he knew every tree and every stone would be exaggeration, but the grounds really had no secrets from him. All paths, all short-cuts, every nook and cranny... Secluded places perfect for one-to-one talks. Quiet places when one could study. Maintained lawns and flowerbeds, and hedges - or wild thicket, with high grass and birds in the branches. The founder of the school could not have chosen better. Omnipresent nature created the perfect conditions for youths, refreshing the minds tired of studying as well as securing quietness in this enclave. In his school-days, Josh would sneak out to the city every now and then, often feeling locked here and wanting to taste the freedom that seemed to wait just behind the walls. Now, the campus appeared the safest place in the world to him, embracing its students with loving arms. They weren't here for the school; the school was here for them.

Slowly, Josh walked the alleys, listening to the silence. He knew it; after all, he had spent all his holidays here. Normally, it would ring with laughter and all noises the teenagers made; in summer, it was filled with the buzz of bees, singing of bird and sometimes even a distant rumbling of a train pulling out of the station. The chapel bell could be heard regardless of the time of year. Finally, he emerged from the shadow onto the front yard of the school. Usually, it was crowded with people rushing to lessons, or on break, or to the library, enthusiastic or frustrated, living their teen years to the fullest. Sometimes nuns would calm down the boys excited about something; other time, some guest would pull up with a car to visit the institution, causing sensation. Here was where all entrance and graduation ceremonies took place...

Josh entered the building. During the summer holidays - or even in the afternoon, when the lessons were over - the school seemed a strange place. Empty corridors with diagonal sunlight coming through the high windows. Specks of dust swirling in the air. Peculiar smell of the floor polish. The building was resting, calming down... and waiting until the students would fill it again with its energy. Parquet floor, trod on by thousands of feet, didn't even creak. The walls were covered with the portraits of former headmasters and other people of merit... as well as the works of several gifted students. For all tradition, for all rules... this school had always put its pupils first.

Contemplating the pictures and settled by the silence, he was shocked upon bumping into someone who had rushed from the side corridor. He staggered toward the wall, trying to keep his balance as his head spun again.

"Watch where you're going!" an angry voice called.

Josh raised his head and straightened up. The man was already turning away from him, but then he suddenly stopped. It seemed he had recognized him, too. Josh drew himself up to his full height - much greater now than that of his middle years of high school - and squinted upon seeing the person he loathed like hardly anybody. Xavier Grenat was giving him a contemptuous look, oblivious to the fact he was so contemptible himself.

"Well, well, whom am I seeing," he said, turning back to Josh. "I've heard you were in the city. I hoped we would not meet, though."

"Same to you," Josh answered involuntarily.

"I see you've not grown out of insolence," the man replied, smoothing his hair on the right temple. "Not that I expected..."

Josh kept silent, trying to appease his irateness. 'Don't pay attention to him. He'll go away soon,' he told himself. But his heart was beating fast and didn't seem like calming down. Just staring at the face of the bastard nauseated him.

"You've missed your old place?" Xavier asked haughtily. "Or were you simply banished from your present one?"

"Contrary to you," Josh drawled, "I study at _university_." 'And let Erwin forgive me,' he added in thought. Something akin to uncertainty flickered in the man's eyes. "In Paris," Josh went on. "I got a scholarship. I graduated from this school with top honours," he added, as if explaining something.

Xavier squinted. Apparently, he didn't like what he'd just heard - but Josh suspected there was nothing the man would like about him anyway. "Then, what are you doing _here_? You've come to brag about your academic success? Or maybe to seek comfort due to lack of it?" Xavier asked venomously, trying to provoke him.

Josh didn't answer, puzzling over how to end this confrontation. Well, at least now he didn't have to fear that dickhead.

"Though... I think I can guess," Xavier said with a dirty smile. "You've come to look for... a new target? After all, you've always _liked_ the students of this school."

Josh clenched his fists, head rushing to his head. _Stay calm._ Whatever that swine said, it had nothing to do with him. Josh had more bigger problems and didn't need to bother himself with some idiot who enjoyed taking it out on his juniors.

"For it seems you have no luck with the adult men," Xavier kept talking. "Though you try to shag anyone. Guillaume was interested in you, but he quickly came to his senses when I told him about your notoriety." He laughed. "Guillaume's okay, even though sometimes he peeps at guys too much... I couldn't let him fall prey to such a filthy faggot. Just like Alain Cora-aaa!" The last words turned into a scream of pain when Josh punched him in the face as hard as he could. Xavier staggered at the wall; then he touched his left cheek and hissed.

Josh was standing with his fists down, breathing heavily, and tried to refrain from hitting again. And again. And again. He had always wanted to do this, now he realized it - and it felt good. "Never," he panted, "dare to speak his name again, you shit. He deserves much better."

The man wiped the blood from his mouth and tried to straighten up, but suddenly it appeared he was no longer taller than Josh. Still, he was more muscular and probably stronger. He swung his arm the next second. Josh barely managed to dodge. His back touched the wall, and he knew the next blow would reach him... Then, however, a voice was to be heard in the corridor, "What's happening here?!"

An older professor emerged from a classroom nearby and was now approaching them, clearly agitated. "Stop it at once!" he cried to Xavier. "Let him go! Somebody call the police!"

Xavier jumped back from Josh and gave the teacher an apprehensive look. Then he called with contempt, "I've no time for this!" and ran towards the exit.

Josh remained where he was, catching his breath. Intoxicating exhilaration he'd been feeling just a moment ago, when giving vent to his anger, was gone. Now he felt guilty and ashamed for having let himself be provoked and having acted like... that git. Served the bastard well... but was there actually any point in it? It wouldn't change his way of thinking; on the contrary, it would only fuel his negative opinion of Josh and... others like Josh.

"Lad? Lad, I'm talking to you," the professor's voice broke into his reflection. He blinked, taking his eyes from the spot his offender had disappeared from, and looked at his saviour. And then he blinked once more. "Are you all right?" his former art teacher asked, observing him with concern.

Josh took a deep breath and shook his head. "I'm all right, sir."

"He should be ashamed for attacking his juniors. What a thug!" The professor glared in the direction of the exit. "But you're not better," he criticised Josh, looking at him again. "Why did you fight with him? And who are you anyway?" he asked. "I don't know you... although you do look familiar. Do you, by any chance, shirk my lessons?"

"Nothing of that kind, sir. I already graduated. Last year..." Josh replied softly.

"Ah! A graduate!" now the teacher's voice rang with something akin to both pride and praise. "What about the other?"

"He used to be a student council president in high school division," Josh whispered.

The older man knitted his brows. "I didn't know our top student grew out to become delinquents. What did he want here?" he asked sternly.

"I have no idea, sir..." Josh answered truthfully.

"What about you?" came the next question. The professor didn't let himself be led by the nose.

Despite the situation, Josh felt like smiling. "I... wanted to visit my old school. I came to Idealo after one year and... I'm going to leave soon anyway... and I wanted..."

The man gave him an intent look. "What did you say your name was?" he asked.

"Joshua Or, sir," Josh whispered.

The teacher frowned again. "Or? How come I know your name...?" he inquired almost reproachfully.

"I used to be your student, sir..." Josh prompted shyly, but the man waved his hand irritably.

"No, it's not this. You can't possibly suppose I remember names of all my students?" he said with a shocking frankness. "Lad, I've been teaching here for over forty years. No, it must be something- Ah!" he exclaimed, apparently having remembered it. "It's you!"

Josh blinked, but the professor was already on his way to the classroom he had went out of earlier. "Well? Come on!" he called impatiently, so Josh followed him, thinking distractedly he could do with some ice.

The art classroom hadn't changed a bit. Big windows letting in a lot of light, so necessary for every student of fine arts. Spacious cabinets with objects for still life practising. Stands, pads, drawing instruments - scattered all over in an unique mixture of order and chaos. The professor disappeared in his office in the back... to soon emerge again, a folder in his hands.

Josh's heart beat faster, as if in warning, but the next moment the professor was already handing him a sheet. _Joshua Or, II B,_ was written on the verso, so Josh looked at the other side...

And fell on a chair that, fortunately, was standing behind him when the world seemed to have slipped from under his feet.

The sight of the beloved face, from three years ago... It was too much. Yet he couldn't take his eyes off it, drinking every line and every shadow in, suddenly painfully aware he had once been happy...

"...never come for it," the professor was speaking, but his voice seemed to come from afar. "...truly magnificent... two or three offers, but I kept it like a treasure..."

Alain. Younger and more open. Without so many troubles, without so many burdens... Without that hate and despair. The man who had cared for him... had been with him, in his own way. The man who Josh would die for if needed. The man whom - he realized - he still loved with all his broken and torn heart.

Two tears fell on the paper, smearing the charcoal lines.

"What's wrong? Lad! Ah, the drawing...!" the teacher called faintly.

The image of Alain he had been bearing in his mind had always been ideal, unreal... Now, smudged and distorted, maybe it finally started to resemble the reality.

"Such a wonderful work," the professor said saddened.

"A labour of love," Josh whispered.

"What did you say? Of love? Hmm... Why not?"

Josh wiped his tears, although he couldn't resist the impression he was still weeping, inside. He looked around and focused his gaze on the teacher. "I'm sorry," he said. He hadn't come here to make a scene. "I'd better... go. I'm glad I... met you, sir."

He got up. He felt dizzy again and had to hold on the backrest.

"But...! You seem pretty ill to me," there was a concern to the teacher's words. "I don't believe that meeting with your alma mater caused it..." he added with some irony.

"It's nothing," Josh replied, trying to sound calm. "I've been... unwell," he supplied. "I haven't slept well. And that heat..."

"Indeed," the professor agreed, "It's awfully stuffy today..."

"I'll have some rest," Josh assured the man, averting his eyes. "Thank you, sir. Goodbye."

Somehow, he managed to reach the door and walked down the corridor, unable to see it. He was clasping the ruined drawing in one hand. His head was aching, he should rest... But he knew he wasn't going to head home.

His heart was still pounding painfully, hard, it was still alive. Maybe it would be better to be dead, not feel and not think. If he left, such would be all his days. Every one of them, one by one - colourless, dark, dull, empty... Maybe he wouldn't feel pain. Maybe it would be a better option. But his heart was still alive.

He pressed one hand against his chest, as if trying to touch it, calm down... He couldn't. He had no power over it, he never had. Whatever his common sense told him had no meaning. Josh had always been following his heart.

He couldn't depart from Idealo without saying goodbye to Alain. No: he couldn't depart from Idealo. He couldn't leave Alain. He couldn't say goodbye to Alain.

To live without Alain.

'We don't need to believe each other to be together,' Alain had said.

Josh let his arm fall, trying to overcome its trembling.

Even if Alain despised him... even if he only wanted to hurt him... he was the only one Josh ever had. If it was the only way they could be together...

For a second, he couldn't breathe. The air was so close. He hadn't even noticed he had left the building. Like a blind man, he headed for the city centre to knock at that door for the third time - and sell his soul.

* * *

_I give you my heart. I give you my body. What else do you want so that I can be with you? - "To tylko tango", Maanam_


	10. Chapter 10

**10.**  
_**(gdy nadwrażliwość jest jak bilet w jedną stronę stąd)**_

* * *

From the moment he'd gone out of the school... No, earlier, from the moment the image of Alain had engulfed him, taken possession of him... or it was his own feelings for Alain that had taken possession of him... from that moment Josh had ceased paying attention to anything. His consciousness had narrowed to one simple fact: going to Alain. It was the only way he could take. His heart, his body, everything in him yearned for Alain - the man who had treated him badly and who would treat him badly again... It didn't matter any more. He was going to him, and it was like before: Alain was his goal.

His head was spinning, his mouth was dry, and it was even harder to take another breath, but all this seemed distant; his mind was foggy. The air was still, sticky and thick, with no wind. The day had been sunny before, but now it seemed that some suspension obscured the sky and that everything was covered by a layer that spoiled every colour. Josh licked his lips, remembered he hadn't drunk at all today - and forgot it right away. His thirst wasn't merely physical - and he would satisfy it very soon.

He wished he could walk faster, but he barely managed to take steps, and the way extended. People were passing him, but it was more that he sensed them than actually saw. Their faces seemed distorted, inhuman. The noises had vanished, too, drowned out by the blood thumping in his ears and some buzzing he couldn't really make out. When feeling like... fainting, one could hear something like this. But he wasn't going to faint.

The city centre, the Cathedral plaza, the park, the Market Square... Streets and lanes, shops and cafes... Tenement houses and office buildings. He knew they were there, he sensed them - but all that didn't feel right. If he raised his head, they would seem grotesquely twisted to his eyes, either too tall or too low, darkened, hovering over the pedestrians. He didn't look. His eyes fixed on the pavement stones, he was stubbornly moving forward, stumbling and regaining his balance every now and then.

He was going to Alain.

He couldn't stop trembling. He remembered the last look in Alain's eyes. Crazy, cruel, greedy... Once Alain got his hands on him, Josh wouldn't make it in one piece. And this thought made him want to go there even more, to get in Alain's clutch, to be torn to shreds... To give himself to Alain completely... And, maybe, once Alain saw every part of him, got to know him until the very last fragment, absorbed him... maybe then he would feel satisfied, full, and peaceful at last. Maybe then he would understand. Maybe they would stop having secrets. They would be no need to believe each other, for they would be so close that _trust_ would no longer have any meaning.

The whole world amounted to Alain. Josh didn't want to be anywhere else. He couldn't live without him.

Here, the grey building, the air is quivering... Or is it the house that is quivering in the sultry air? The dark hole of the doorway, the dimness of the staircase... seems thicker than usually, suffocates, closes in. The iron railing - the very first note of coldness in this day of hell - firm under his hand, rough and smooth at the same time. Stairs, high, one by one, step, step, step... Higher, higher with every moment - like ascending to Heaven... but he's actually climbing down to Hell, deeper and deeper.

The way seems infinite, but it finally ends on the second floor... He has to let go of the railing, and it has become a close friend already, after that small eternity they've spent together. The walls surrounding him, unfriendly, appear to come down on him. High doors look with hostility. They merge in one and then separate again. Quick steps, someone's running down from upstairs - upstairs? - rushes by, pushing Josh away. Feeling of pain in the shoulder, helps to focus. Closer, to that door. He can see the cracks in the white paint, it goes off in places.

Arm is still pulsating with a dull pain, so close. Knock-knock... He _has_ knocked, hasn't he? His hand is trembling, so he can't be sure. But he has felt his knuckles hit the wood - and echo of this knocking in his shoulder, though both are gone now. Silence, silence... He will knock as much as it takes... until he grows weak... In a second... he will raise his arm again...

The door opens abruptly - a dark breach in a pale blur. Soon his eyes catch the details, an oval of the face fringed by hair. Now it's a bright blur against the dark one. Josh squints to see better, but his head is spinning again and he feels like falling any moment. Surge of feelings, emotions and physical reaction is so intense... And he's overflowed with energy, too, elation he's never felt before...

At first, Alain's look is angry, but then his green eyes - Are they really green? But all colours have vanished - get wider. And anger fades, replaced by uncertainty, anxiety... fear? Don't fear, Alain. I'm here... for you.

Alain takes a step back inside the flat, involuntarily, then he presses his lips tight and frowns. That's it, there's nothing to be scared of. In a moment... in a moment... we will be...

Josh enters, passes Alain, feeling the heat of his body - the hall is so cramped they almost brush against each other. And it's a pleasant heat, for the first time in this hot day. Josh bites his lips, moving into the room, and turns around. Alain is standing in the corridor, his brows furrowed, hair falling onto his forehead, his expression still at a loss, though he would never admit it.

Josh feels his lips tremble and he presses them tight. He hasn't come here to fear. His body is trembling, but there are many reasons for it - and fear isn't one of them.

"Alain..." he speaks and hears how hoarse his voice is.

Alain twitches visibly at the very sound of it. Josh licks his lips again, but his tongue seems dry. He tries to swallow, but there's nothing in his mouth. His irritated throat is itchy, but he raises his head to go on talking.

Alain is standing, waiting, he comes half a step closer, his gaze more sober than ever. He's cautious, doubtful, wary. He fills Josh's field of vision completely.

"I no longer have any strength to run away, Alain," Josh says, still hoarsely, and a shadow flickers through Alain's face. "You know... I still love you," he confesses, and now Alain almost draws back, his gaze locked again. "I couldn't... forget about you. I don't think I'll ever be able to. I wanted... it to be different," he continues, wondering how he can be so calm. Maybe because he knows everything will be over in a moment. "But the life isn't always what you want... But I can't live without you, Alain," he whispers. "So I won't run away any more. You said... we don't need to trust each other to be together. I..." He licks his lips once more, trying to overcome another dizziness. "If this way- If that's what you want- I'm here. You can do anything you want with me," he finished, staring at Alain and not seeing him.

He has sent away his pride and freedom, and reason, and dreams. It wasn't too high price for being able to stay with Alain.

It's hot - and it probably will be even hotter. He lifts one hand to brush hair aside from his forehead and realizes he is still holding the drawing. Now it's crumpled, completely ruined... He stares at it for a second, frowning. He doesn't need it any more. It's always been but a poor substitute for Alain... He will never need it again.

He lets go of it, never sparing it another look when it's falling on the floor. Hot. He undoes his shirt, button by button, and then looks at Alain, who is still standing by the wall, the gaze of his eyes even more... troubled. Why isn't Alain smiling? Where has that voracious grimace of him gone, that crazy lust for capturing and that arrogant desire to make his own? The last button is undone, though it isn't helping the sense of hotness at all. Josh feels he's burning. He doesn't want to wait any more. He is standing with his arms down and looking at Alain, his eyes expressing begging and submission...

Alain gives a moan. Finally, he comes closer, stops next to Josh, raises his both hands... They are trembling. The fingers freeze in the mid-air over Josh's face, that is waiting impatiently... Alain wants to say something, but not a single word leaves his mouth. He's looking Josh in the eye, and Josh is looking him in the eye and isn't scared of anything... Alain trails Josh's cheeks with his fingers and then moves them down, onto Josh's neck, just like Josh has always wished. The fingertips are almost burning, Josh thinks he can feel their pulse - or is it his own, everywhere under his skin, yearning for Alain's touch...? Alain's fingers slide under the fabric of the shirt, still trembling, and Josh cannot hold back a moan... He shuts his eyes, for Alain's gaze makes the world turn upside down...

The touch suddenly vanished; the heat faded. Quick steps were to be heard, the door slammed, and the silence fell again.

And it kept ringing in his ears.

Josh pressed his eyelids tight. He wished he could never lift them again. Children used to believe they turned invisible once they closed their eyes. He wished he could disappear. Just like the whole world had disappeared between two beats of his heart.

How long could he stay in the illusion? He opened his eyes.

Alain wasn't there.

He thought the pain would render him unconscious.

It couldn't be real. It simply couldn't.

He would rather have been hit. Physical pain would mean a presence. And it would implied some emotions. He wouldn't have _liked_ it, and he wouldn't have _wanted_ it, but he would have preferred it.

Being left again... caused suffering incomparably greater. He couldn't... He no longer had any strength to bear with it.

His legs gave way, and he sat down on the floor, staring ahead, his eyes dead. But no matter how long did he stare at the spot Alain had been in just a moment ago, Alain wasn't there any more. He had vanished, piercing his heart with the final stab.

He didn't want him. After all, he didn't want him.

Josh didn't know how he'd come outside. At one point, he simply realized he was walking down the street. He probably was in Idealo, but it seemed to him he was travelling through some landscape he didn't know. It was dark - not completely, but definitely darker than before. Maybe it was night already. Maybe the time was moving faster that Josh could perceive. And, finally, the wind started to blow... while there was no wind in Idealo...? People were rushing somewhere, passing him as they ran. Someone bumped into him and called out an apology; for Josh, they could as well not exist.

It'd got cold, and Josh wrapped himself with the shirt, hanging open, his hands numb. The rain poured down the next moment, drenching him to the skin. The wall of water obscured the scenery he couldn't see anyway. The lightning, however, forced its way in his consciousness, as well as the thunder three seconds later.

He hoped Alain had found a cover, the thought that seemed to belong to some other life crossed his mind.

Alain.

He could no longer cry. He had cried all his tears because of Alain. Water flowing down his face and dripping from his hair and eyelashes, had to do. In order to cry, one had to still feel something, and he wasn't able to feel any more. The pain had vanished; maybe it would never come again. Everything had vanished, leaving him empty.

Alain didn't want him. Josh would give him anything, body and soul. Body alone if Alain needed only his body... But Alain didn't want even that. The contempt he felt for Josh must have been stronger than anything.

Although, Josh didn't believe it to be stronger than the one he felt for himself. It was as if someone switched a lamp, making him see his existence as a whole he had never wanted to acknowledge. Wretchedness he couldn't really escape.

He had lost. He couldn't reach even one of his goals. He had failed. No-one wanted him. Everybody had left him. Parents. Grandfather. Teachers. Friends. Even Alain.

He was hopeless.

When it was that he'd made a wrong turn? He'd been bright, open and positive. He'd had the world in his reach. He'd had a heart eager to love. He'd had potential. Why was he walking alone now, unable to weep, through the darkened city, lashed by the rain? He _must_ have done something wrong. Or maybe he had been destined to fail right from the start? There had to be some reason why his parents had left him. There had to be some reason why others hadn't cared for him enough to stay with him.

It could be that.

It probably was that.

It had to be that.

It was all his fault.

He was useless, be it studies he couldn't really handle or... love. And that was not all. Somehow, his affection had turned Alain into what Alain had become. 'What have you done to me?' Alain had asked him in despair - and though Josh didn't know the answer, he knew he had done something bad. If not for him, Alain would have led a normal life. He would have found a woman he'd loved, and maybe... he would even been married by now and had children, too? He would have been happy. He would have been smiling and looking brightly at his life. He wouldn't have dwelt in that cramped flat and even more cramped cage of insanity that Josh had been causing in him, haunted by the memories like nightmares, never letting his blood to calm and bringing out the worst in him.

It was his fault. He had known the real Alain; he'd had a chance to see it, as well as experience Alain's tenderness, concern and care. If not for Josh, Alain would have had the possibility to nurture his virtues and bestow his affection on others. Josh had entered his life never asking a permission and brought him down, only for his own egoism.

It _was_ his fault.

He had not understood it earlier. He had acted selfishly, thoughtlessly... What could he do in order to atone for it? How could he give Alain back his old life?

Was it already... too late?

Josh realized he was shuddering with cold in his thin shirt. He was completely drenched. The sensation of heat tormenting him the whole day now seemed as unreal as the world itself. His teeth started chattering. Water on the streets was ankle-deep. His feet were numb. He should seek shelter... but, somehow, it was all the same to him.

The building of the Cathedral appeared before his eyes unexpected - or maybe he'd simply decided to actually see something? The dark tower loomed against the sky crossed by lightnings. The sound of the bell merged with a thunder; his head, however, was pounding even more. It was as if his skull was being squeezed, and he could no longer gather his thoughts. Suddenly, he was completely sure he would collapse, trying to take another step.

Yet, he managed to reach the door, but opening it consumed the last of his strength. Standing in the porch and dripping with water, he tried to overcome the dizziness evoked by the physical effort. He rested his back against the wall and closed his eyes, panting. The rain was barely audible hear; instead, the thumping of his heart was much louder. The inner doors creaked quietly, moved by a lost gust of wind. He lifted his eyelids. A golden glow, diffused by the frosted glass, came from the inside of the church, most likely the light of the candles and the small lamps that always lit the darkness of the temple. He blinked, and the picture got blurred again.

Light meant warmth. It meant comfort. Solace and relief.

He didn't deserve it.

He turned away and entered the tower staircase. For the second time the same day, he started to climb the stairs, but now he wasn't expecting nor hoping for anything. He didn't even know why he was doing it; he was barely conscious. Once... once he'd used to come here to lift his spirits... to find strength to keep walking. It was the only place he could come... whenever feeling... bad...

He was breathing heavily, every step was so hard to take... He was moving blindfold, forced to close his eyes again, for the feeling the world was spinning wouldn't leave. Up... up... one more step, one more step... and then some rest since his lungs had enough... Here the thunders were louder, echoing in this empty space.

Up again... an infinite number of stairs, and he'd forgot where and what for he was going... everything had narrowed to that way he had to follow in order to...

In order to achieve peace.

Finally, the last step. He leaned against the wall, his breath quick. His legs were failing him, but he forced himself to stand. If he lay down now, he wouldn't manage to get up again. But did it really matter? He didn't know. He was catching his breath, hoping that the world would stop swaying once he opened his eyes again.

There was another flash of light on the smooth surface of the bell. The thunder was to be heard after a longer while, and it was quieter now. The rain was still rustling, beating at the church roof, tiles and copper plates. He slipped onto the well known balcony, the water spouting in his face, but he didn't care... He rested against the railing, staring in the dark. His eyes were swollen, he couldn't see much... Single lights of lanterns and windows - and then the darkness. Only when the lightning crossed the sky, the scenery of the town was visible: ghastly, strange...

So fitting.

The darkness was below as well. It could be twenty or thousand meters to the ground. The velvety darkness tempted with its softness. It would take him in its arms. He would be falling and falling, and would never fall... He would drift to sleep before he fell down. He wouldn't feel a thing, held in those friendly hands.

He would never feel a thing. No pain, no emptiness, no guilt.

It was so easy.

And... it would be better like this. For everyone.

Everyone? Ah, yes... _Erwin and Cecile._ Let them be happy. Let them enjoy their lives just like they used to. He couldn't say goodbye to them... but they would know.

And Alain. At last, he was able to think of Alain without his heart clenching. But, ah, he no longer had a heart.

_Farewell._

Something flickered out of the corner of his eye, and he turned back to look, but, whatever that light was, it had already faded in the air like a memory of someone's fair hair...

He blinked, suddenly hesitant. Had someone been here? Where was _here_? He looked around, blinking again. What was he doing here? He should go home and get into bed before a cold killed him. He had a fever, he was sure of it... No wonder that he started to see things.

He looked down, and the darkness filled his whole field of vision again. No, he couldn't go home. There was no home he could return to. The only way was into the storm. That... must have been just another lightning. The thunder, one of the last, came down on the town, and this time Josh thought he could hear a scream in it.

In a moment... in a moment it would be all over... His fingers were slipped on the wet stone when he unsuccessfully tried to get on the balustrade... He wouldn't make it, he thought almost panicked, he was too weak... The darkness below was beckoning... tempting with the promise of the sweet dream.

He pulled himself up and leaned forward, closing his eyes.

"Farewell," he whispered as the final memory of Alain filled his nostrils.

The strong arms closed around him, and he heard, "I will never let go of you," but he could as well imagined it, for that moment the first stroke of the bell was to be heard, after which the only thing that lasted was the sensation of falling down...

* * *

_When hypersensitivity is a one-way ticket - "Leszek Żukowski", Coma_


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**  
_**(mit dir hab ich dieses Gefühl, dass wir heut Nacht unsterblich sind)**_

* * *

A warm hand disappeared from his forehead when he opened his eyes. He blinked. The bright light was dazzling; it had to be morning.

"Hello," a calm voice got in his conscious as a second sensation.

He turned his head in its direction. A man in a white gown was standing next to his bed and smiling at him gently. His bed? Josh blinked again, grasping the details of the place he was in. Everything was white here: the curtains, the ceiling and the walls - bare but calming.

"Where-" he spoke hoarsely, but then he already knew.

The man, apparently a doctor, offered him a glass of water. He drank greedily, paying little attention to the prick in his right arm and trying to urge his brain to work. The hospital, he was in the hospital. But... how had he got here? The last thing he remembered...

His coughed, putting the empty glass at the table. He felt like drinking more.

"You nearly developed a pneumonia," the doctor said. "Fortunately, we made it in time. I can see you're doing pretty well, and your fever is gone, too. I'm going to examine you now," the man moved closer. "Look here. How many fingers do you see? Two, correct. Do you have a headache? A little? It's all right. Can you move your arms... Ah, it's a needle from the drip. It can be removed, we no longer need it. Nurse! Then, your legs. Good. Do you feel numb anywhere? No? That's great."

Quietly, Josh focused on complying with the doctor's orders, nodding or answering when asked to. One thing got his attention, though. "A drip?" he whispered.

"We had to... nourish you a little," the doctor explained. "Nurse, please remove PVC," he turned to a nurse that had just entered the room.

The woman bent over Josh to handle his right arm. Josh turned his head and stared at the window but didn't really see it.

Now he remembered what it was he'd wanted to do... the previous day? He had no idea how long had passed since then. Most of the events were blurred, unclear... but that one thing he could remember very well. He climbed the church tower to... to ease his pain. To end it all. The realization of it was overwhelming. Suddenly, he didn't know at all how he felt about it. He remembered he'd been falling... But now he was here, safe and almost sound. What had happened? So many impressions and thoughts, and unknown... His fingers clenched into the quilt cover.

"The blood tests indicated overall exhaustion, and the infection didn't help anything, quite the contrary," he was reached by the voice of the doctor, whom he had already forgotten. The nurse had disappeared. "It seemed you haven't been eating properly for some time, am I right?"

"I had no appetite..." Josh whispered, lowering his head.

"How do you sleep nowadays?"

"Not very well..."

The doctor moved a chair and sat down by his bed. Judging from the rustle, he was leafing through his medical record. "You study at university, right?" he kept asking. "Did you notice any problems with concentration? Have you been feeling tired all the time?"

Josh blinked. 'What does it have to do with anything?' he wanted to ask, but... In fact, it was all the same to him. He nodded.

"How long have you been feeling like that?"

"Some months... maybe longer," he replied in a whisper.

"And now that thing, too... It seems everything is clear."

Josh raised his head and looked at the doctor. Everything was clear? What? How?

"I suppose you're not going to tell me what you were doing in the church tower during a thunderstorm?" the doctor asked, giving him a serious look. He was no longer smiling.

"I..."

For a while, Josh could only blink, for suddenly he ceased seeing properly. With some astonishment, he realized tears were flowing from his eyes and falling on the bedclothes. Only now he started to comprehend what... He felt he was trembling. He had been feeling so bad, abandoned by everyone and driven on the edge of the precipice... He had seen no other way to end the pain and never, ever, suffer again... But was it a reason enough? He didn't know. He didn't know whether he was happy to be alive - or disappointed. He didn't know anything except the fact he was ashamed.

The doctor's voice reached him from afar, "... sure that you'd had a fight, but now I think you've tried to commit suicide, not necessarily a mutual."

Josh blinked. He raised his head and focus, blinking all the time. Suddenly, he wished he could see the doctor more clearly. Something the man had said... He must have overheard it.

"What...?" he rasped, clenching his fists on the fabric so that his knuckles went white.

"Well, we have found both of you."

We have found both of you.

We. Have. Found. Both of you.

Both.

Josh felt dizzy. He had to... remember. Who...? Who had been there? He had no recollection. He had been alone... right? Before the end... he had seen something. He frowned. And he had heard something. Someone... had caught him? And then they had been falling.

_They had been falling._

Alain.

Alain had been there. In the tower. In the storm. Alain had caught him. And they had fallen. Together. Down. The bells had been ringing above them...

He felt he was suffocating. There was not enough air. He was breathing faster, trying to escape the revelation, but it already was too late.

That was the reason why he was here, in one piece and alive after such a fall. Alain...

He had killed Alain.

The freezing cold was creeping up, from his legs though his trunk towards his throat...

It couldn't be... true.

"Alain..."

"If you manage to get up, I believe you can go and see him. He was admitted to otolaryngology ward."

The world stopped... and then moved on again. Josh focused his gaze on the person who had made it happen with just a one sentence.

Only later Josh realized the doctor must have had the unusual ability to read his patients' eyes, for during their short conversation he used to answer even those questions Josh couldn't articulate.

"You couldn't possibly think... Oh, calm down. Now. Calm down. We have found the two of you at the foot of the stairs. Judging from your injuries, you had to fall down - if not from the top, then from some part at least... No, it's impossible to fall down from the top. In any case, it seems that your friend took the most of the fall upon himself. He has a light concussion, a few broken ribs and sprained ankle. He will be all right. After a few days of rest, he will go home. It's the bells that did him the most harm. He can't hear in one ear while does pretty poorly in the other, but we hope it's only a temporal impairment."

Josh stared at the man, trying to overcome the chaos filling him. He felt his lips tremble. He grasped the doctor by the hand and moved closer to him.

"Sir... Is it true? Is it true what you say?" he choked out.

The man frowned. "Of course. You were quickly found, and you received help. If you had stayed there longer, it might have ended badly, at least for you. But..." the doctor hesitated. "Are you relieved, hearing that?" he asked after a moment.

Josh looked at his hands on the cover. Suddenly, it struck him how thin they were. He nodded. "Yes."

He was. Now he could say it. Now he was sure. He survived. He was still alive. He was still breathing and seeing the world. And Alain. Alain was alive, too.

"He saved me."

"So it seems," the doctor agreed.

"I... I wasn't feeling well," Josh kept talking, more to himself than anyone else. He rubbed his forehead. "So much had happened... but it's no justification," he went on, for he couldn't stop once he'd started. "I almost did something I... had never believed I could do, ever. We... still have things to talk out. I thought he... hated me. I couldn't live without him," he added in a whisper. "That's why... why..." He clenched his jaw, suddenly unable to continue, and grasped at the fabric, trying to collect himself. "Yet he... saved me," he said, as if only realizing it now. "He came to me... during the storm... He... doesn't like thunderstorms, yet he... came to me. He saved me," he repeated and pressed his lips tight but in vain. He could no longer hold back the sob.

He was crying - and never before had it felt so good. The feeling of relief was so intense he was completely defenceless against it. He covered his face with his hands, but the sobbing wouldn't stop. He knew he would have a headache, his throat was aching already, as were his lungs... but he welcomed that pain happily, for it proved he was alive. Both of them were. He didn't intend to plan any future; he only focused on the present - and it tasted great... Even those tears weren't bitter.

"It must have been hard for you," came from the doctor when his crying subsided.

"I'm sorry," Josh said, wiping his face with a sleeve, embarrassed he was bothering the doctor. "I didn't want-"

The man raised his hand, "It's all right." He didn't seem angry; quite the contrary, he nodded empathetically. "It only proves the strain you've been living with recently. I'll have a specialist see you. You will get help." Josh raised his wet eyes at him. "It's good if you straighten things up with your... friend, but your depression has to be taken care of, too."

"I'm not..." Josh started and stopped.

"Now, now," the doctor replied in a reassuring tone and smiled again. "You will see yourself that Doctor Berni Hermina is-"

The nurse looked in the room. "Doctor, you're being called to the room number three."

"I'm coming," the man rose from the chair. "You'll have something to eat soon," he said to Josh. "The bathroom is there, in case you wish to have a wash. I see no contraindication."

Josh fixed his eyes on the white fabric of a quilt cover. "Sir... You said that where I'll find... Alain?" he asked, lowering his head.

"Otolaryngology ward. Ask the nurse to take you there. Do you have more questions?"

"No, thank you," Josh whispered.

"You know who it really is you should thank."

Josh nodded, staring at his fists. It was what he had to do in the first place.

* * *

As far as he was concerned, he could visit Alain immediately, but the nurse made herself clear: the meal came first. Milk soup, white bread and fruits; very healthy food indeed. It looked good, and it tasted even better, although he still had no appetite. The tea, however, pleased him a lot since he felt thirsty all the time. He drank the whole pot.

As he was eating, his enthusiasm was shrinking... No, it wasn't that. His confidence regarding meeting Alain was diminishing. Of course, he wanted to see him. To see himself that Alain was okay. To thank him... But... How could he look Alain in the eye after... that? And... how would Alain welcome him to begin with? He had come to him, saved him - which made Josh's heart speed up - but... What could have been his motive? Maybe it was... but a whim? Maybe he wanted to... torment Josh some more time?

He swallowed, moving the tray away. No, he couldn't think this way. He couldn't be more mean he already was. Alain had saved him, risking his own health and life. It... had to stand for something. Even though Josh still didn't know what for.

He told the nurse he wished to bathe, and the woman fetched him clean clothes. In the bathroom, he found a towel and a bathrobe. When sitting in the tub and pouring water on his thin body, he realized how bruised he was. Whenever he was moving, he felt pain all over, although not very strong - definitely not as much as when he'd sprained his ankle. Anyway, he was beaten-up pretty badly. That made sense... The doctor had said they had fallen down the stairs of the church tower? It must have been some fifty meters. If Alain had taken the impact on himself... then Josh had better not imagine how _he_ had to feel now. Probably as if every bone in his body was broken.

He felt his heart clenched.

He washed himself, as fast as he could, and then settled about brushing his hair. His arms felt groggy, and the comb seemed to weigh a ton, but somehow he managed. His face reflected in the mirror was gaunt, his hair was falling along lifelessly; a sorry sight, definitely... His eyes, however - bigger every time he glanced in the mirror - had some twinkle to them, the one he hadn't seen in a while. He put the comb aside and dressed. His hair would dry up any moment. And once he took care of himself, his face would fill out, too. He had to give it some stick, and he would look like a human in no time.

The walk to otolaryngology ward seemed to drag on forever, mostly because the bath had consumed nearly all of Josh's strength. And it was only the second floor! The nurse offered him her arm, which he gratefully accepted, although it made him feel even more pathetic. On his way, he had two additional coughing spells, but somehow they managed to reach their destination. The nurse entrusted him to the personnel - 'This gentleman wants to see Mister Corail. Please, escort him back to internal 2 once he's done here' - and then he was already standing before that particular room and knew his heart was racing not only due to the physical effort.

There were four beds in the room, with two occupied. The one by the door was taken by the older man, who was snoring loudly in his sleep. Alain was given the bed by the window and was now looking through it. His head was bandaged. Fear gnawed Josh. But... the doctor had said he would recover soon.

"You have a visitor, Mister Corail," the nurse announced him, urging Josh to come in.

Alain didn't move. Josh stopped dead in his track. Maybe he was sleeping; he was lying so peacefully... Then, however, the woman touched his shoulder, and Alain stirred, turning to them. His eyes grew wider when he saw Josh... And Josh tried - in vain - overcome the emotion filling him at the sight of that well-known and beloved face.

The nurse showed him a chair. "Talk as long as you like. You have to speak loudly since he can't hear well," she added when he sat down, and drew the curtain, separating them from the world.

Josh felt despair overtake him. Talk? Can't hear well? Both seemed an abstract: how could they talk when Alain apparently couldn't hear _a thing_? And it was his fault... He lowered his eyes, having no courage to look at him.

Alain sat up... and settle about pulling off the bandage. Josh's head snapped up.

"You shouldn't..."

"I can hear pretty well in right ear," came the reply. "I've no idea why they dressed it too."

Without a word, Josh stared at him. It struck him how close they were - and so differently than in a last few days. His eyes grew wider. Suddenly, it was so hard to believe in what had happened between them. Alain was giving him a totally different look... Josh blinked, and it took him a second to remember he knew that gaze. And then his heart clenched again. Many years ago, when he had been in hospital and Alain had been sitting by his bed... Now the roles were reversed, but it didn't matter.

"You are all right," Alain spoke, and it sounded as if he'd been holding his breath for a while.

Josh nodded. "Thanks to-"

"I... hurt you," Alain whispered and averted his eyes, but then he looked at him again as if he couldn't resist it.

And vice versa. Josh was absorbing every detail of his face - tired, pale, haggard like his own... and so calm. Unsure but resigned. The green eyes were looking shyly, the dark spot under the left one in its place, like before. The bandage on his hair, crooked comically. Josh refrained from reaching and touching the sunken cheek.

He blinked. What had Alain said? He was so engrossed... 'I hurt you,' he'd said. Josh blinked again and looked Alain in the eye. He opened his mouth, wanted to object, to say it didn't matter...

He remained silent. He realized he needed it; they both did. He nodded.

Alain turned his head away and stared on the window. Then he covered his face with one trembling hand. Never before had Josh seen him so distressed. "No, Alain," he couldn't bear it. "I-"

"I hurt you," Alain repeated in a strangled voice. "Many times. I- I'm sorry."

Josh froze. He hadn't expected it. His hear was beating fast, as if trying to jump out of his chest. His fingers clutched at the fabric of the bathing robe. "I'm all right," he whispered.

Alain shook his head. "I... didn't know what I was doing," he said hoarsely. "No, it's not this. I did know. Just... now I don't know why I was doing it. Like... like I was possessed or something." His hand fell on the cover, and he lowered his head. He blinked. "It's... It sometimes happens to me. I do and say things I don't... want. Things I later regret," he confessed in a soft voice. "I can't help myself... I don't think. It feels like everybody is against me. And that I have to protect myself. But... it doesn't justify me."

Captivated, Josh was only listening to it in silence.

Alain's eyelashes were fluttering, as the man kept blinking. His hands seemed to tremble. "Joshua, I... What you said, the other day... I didn't believe you, yet you... all that time..." Now Alain finally dared to look at him, from under his fringe, shyly, anxiously. Josh gulped as his throat clenched with emotion. He missed that look very much...

"That time, in high school..." Alain started, and Josh's heart leapt. Was Alain going to...

Then, however, Alain launched into a story that Josh had never expected to hear - and now he couldn't but listen to it, absorbing every word and every tone of Alain's voice, his heart beating fast in his chest as he recollected the events himself. Once he started, Alain couldn't stop - and Josh didn't feel like interrupting him. Every now and then, Alain averted his eyes and looked out the window or ahead, or raised his hand to cover his eyes, or clenched his fists. Yet, he didn't stop talking, even when the words seemed difficult and he had to urge himself to say them - going through that peculiar examination of conscience, sorrow for having offended, confession and penance at once.

"That time, in high school... It was your second year, wasn't it? And I was preparing to graduate... After that whole thing with Georges... It was the same, I treated him cruelly... Thanks God, everything ended well. And I was... Grace had once said I should forgive myself. I think Georges told me the same. It was like... a new life, like discovering the world anew... after I'd spent so long seeing it reflected in a false mirror..."

"And then you appeared. I had no idea what you wanted from me. I had no friends... and you... you simply were there. Suddenly you were everywhere. I... Before I knew it, I was swept off my feet... And I didn't realize it at all. You know, I've never been very quick about those things... We were together, and it felt... good. I didn't think even once that you too... I didn't assume you could... Sure, I knew what they were talking about you, but I didn't give credence to the rumours."

"And then... That evening after my graduation... when we... kissed. I shouldn't have done this. I knew it, yet I did it... And right away I thought I was forcing myself upon you. That I was abusing you. And I was shocked, too. I think it was not until that time that I realized how I was feeling about you and what I wanted... Never before... Once, only once, I tried... with Georges... I tried to do... something bad to him. I didn't want to let it happen again, never. I knew I couldn't do this to you. Not to you. And... I was shocked, too, that I wanted you, a man, that way..."

"I was scared. I knew I couldn't look you in the face. I had to escape. That day... when you confessed your feelings... I... didn't believe it. I thought I'd made you say it. That I'd turned your head... and it was bad. I thought it would be better if I were not around. I was a coward. Once again I acted like one."

"And then... Joshua... what happened later was some... madness. I couldn't forget your... lips, your skin, your eyes... I tried... I tried to prove myself I was a normal guy. But no woman could give me what I desired. At some point... I can't explain it, but I don't expect you to understand either... At some point, I believed it was all your fault. I was never at peace, neither by day nor by night, it was like hell... It wasn't normal. Three years of that... I think I went crazy. I put the blame on you in order to find some relief in belief it wasn't me... It wasn't me, it was you. It was so easy to believe it, focus on it, brush away any responsibility and find somebody else guilty. Someone I could vent my anger on. I wanted to tear you to pieces, destroy you, punish you."

"And then you appeared in Idealo again. I wasn't thinking of you. I was no longer thinking but... feeling, under my skin. As if you were always near and I couldn't free myself from you. I knew you would come. At your friends' wedding... And you were in the church indeed, I saw you... with that man. I couldn't stand it. The next day... I told him you were... mine... and to stay away from you. If he protested... I'm sure I would have killed him. An innocent man. Only because he was close to you."

"You were... different. Older, taller... Not longer a kid. And so damn attractive. Your face haunted me. I wanted to get my hands on you, to crush you, I wanted so much to touch your skin again... to kiss you once more..."

"And then you came to me yourself. And again, and again. So innocent... I didn't listen to you, I wanted to take you... You ran away, and again... and then you were back. You came back and... It was when I realized I could never really have you. You gave me all... then... it was like a blow. Like waking up. I opened my eyes and realized... you were there... for me. You've always been there for me. So close, all it took was to reach and touch you. I didn't need more. It was as if I stopped and had a look around, and saw where I was. I wanted to return to you, for it was pointless to be anywhere else."

"But when I returned, you were already gone. Only that... picture was left. You were... crying, weren't you? I've only once seen you crying, when the pain was too strong for you. And I thought, for the first time in a long while I thought of you. For three years I was only thinking of myself, and now I thought of you. Where you were, what you were doing, how you were feeling... When I couldn't find you... It was when I realized what the hell really meant. I had to find you... and I did... although... I nearly... didn't manage... on time... Joshua... I nearly lost a dear person again. Through my own fault."

Alain looked at him again, and it seemed to Josh his eyes were red-rimmed and moist, and could barely withstand his gaze.

"I drove you to... that," Alain said, and those words were trembling.

"It was not your fault," Josh interrupted him, amazed he could still speak. But he had to say it. Even if it _was_ Alain's fault, a little... now... it didn't matter any more. "You saved me," he whispered, his voice strangled.

"I said I would never let go of you, yet... I left you again," Alain noticed, looking at him with despair.

"But you caught me when I fell," Josh replied quickly, shaking his head. "Now... are you going to never let go of me again?"

Alain was silent, his gaze under his fringe shy, ready to lower his head any moment. Then, however, he nodded. Josh breathed out.

They were only human. They had hurt each other so many times... And they would undoubtedly hurt each other again. His common sense told him not to trust, but...

There was no life without faith. When still alive, one had to and could believe.

He rose from the chair; he was shivering all over. He bent over Alain and embraced him. His eyes were stinging, but he didn't want to cry, it was a happy moment... Tears, however, squeezed through his eyelashes. Alain's arms closed around him, at first unsure, hesitant... and then tight, just like he'd always wished.

"I will never let go of you," Alain whispered, stroking Josh's hair as sob was shaking him. "If you still want me..."

"For my part... nothing has changed," Josh uttered when he was able to speak again, snuggling in Alain's chest and hearing his fast heart-beat. "I've never stopped loving you. And... Thanks for saving my life."

Alain pressed his lips against his hair. "You saved me before," he whispered, hugging him tight.

Josh smiled, for the first time in a very long time, and thought that together they should be able to walk the path called life.

* * *

_With you, I have the feeling that tonight we are immortal - "Unsterblich", Die Toten Hosen_


	12. Chapter 12

**12.**  
_**(this night I'll be over you)**_

* * *

The doctors wanted to keep them longer in hospital. At least Alain. Josh was lucky to be discharged in just two days, but he spent virtually all his time on otolaryngology anyway. Just like the doctor had predicted, Alain was recovering very quickly. In fact, Josh couldn't quite grasp why he had to stay there at all - as far as he was aware, the sprained ankle and broken ribs could be as well healed at home - but he did appreciate that Alain was in safe custody, too. He wanted to have him fully operational when...

They didn't talk about _that_. They talked about many things - and they cleared many things up. Leaving three years behind wasn't easy - and was too. Josh was happy that Alain wanted to talk. After the effusiveness the man had displayed during their initial meeting, talking seemed much more difficult to him now, but some stubbornness helped him to put his thoughts and feelings into words. Contrary to the old times, Josh was mostly a listener now, but they did equally participated in building of understanding again. Doubts, apologies, remorse, hopes - and promises Josh could trust for the first time in his life. They were able to talk, for they knew they were together and could stay together. No matter how painful topics they touched on, they had courage to do so - in order to make things between them easier.

In any case, Alain was more open now, and Josh was amazed to discover yet another part of him. Before, when still in school, Alain had always been ill-at-ease; hadn't used to talk, unsure what he could and should say; hadn't shown his feelings - only sometimes, without words, he had acted with breath-taking tenderness toward Josh. Then, after three years, a U-turn: he'd been aggressive in every way and hadn't cared about his words or acts. He would explode with emotions welling up in him without as much as a warning . Now, it seemed to Josh that Alain was perfectly balanced between the two poles, both disinhibited and caring. As if he was his real self. Undoubtedly, Josh liked that version of him most. Alain, who could say what was in his heart. Alain, who could look him in the eye. Alain, who hugged him like he wanted to never let him go, and whispered the words of love.

Alain, who had reconciled with himself, letting himself yet another chance to be happy.

Josh knew he would never forget those moments, and each one brought them closer. Sometimes they were at a loss for words when emotion clenched their throats and they had to wipe their tears. Sometimes they talked both at once, trying to say as much as they could, as fast as they could. Sometimes they simply looked each other in the eye and just didn't have enough of that contact; quite the contrary, they wanted more and more. And sometimes - those moments were most delicious - they laughed, happy with being together, and exchanged casual remarks on their future.

It was clear as the sun they belonged together.

The older man from the bed by the door apparently came to the conclusion that his hearing problem was of a different nature he had assumed, and quickly asked to be discharged. After that, the staff was careful not to place new patients in Alain's room, as long as it was possible. And they even didn't... do anything.

Josh didn't know if they were going to do. Of course, his desire to be with Alain was complete, psychical as well as physical. Maybe he was exhausted due to his illness and his... unhealthy lifestyle, but it didn't stop him from... hoping that... Especially that every now and then Alain would give him that look and silence would fall between them and... But Alain didn't bring that subject up. As far as Josh was concerned, they could spend the rest of their lives just holding hands, all right... Still...

It was somewhat frustrating.

He slept home - that meant, at Erwin's and Cecile's place. He was recovering at double speed, and his energy stocks were replenishing again. The sun, food and love - only that much and so much he needed. Whenever out of the hospital, he was cleaning Alain's flat... only to learn one day that Alain had rend a bigger one. Upon hearing it, Josh blinked, and then he came to the conclusion that Alain Corail would never stop surprising him. However, he had absolutely nothing against such positive surprises.

"I thought... that's too cramped in there," Alain said, lowering his eyes. "If you... would like to... move in."

Josh blinked again. It... didn't sound bad. From the very beginning, he'd been assuming he wouldn't leave Alain's side, but now... it took some shape. "I'm sure we would fit in your bed, too," he said casually. "We're rather... skinny."

Alain gave him not-so-modest-look, and something akin to a smile stretched his lips. "But... why crowd together?" he asked.

Josh drove away a blush and looked away. Oh, not that he was embarrassed; he didn't believe they would ever feel embarrassed in front of each other. He preferred to avert his eyes, otherwise... it could end in violating the hospital rules, clearly forbidding any intimacy. Even if they had a room for themselves. Alain had never been so suggestive before. Could it mean that he really... wanted...

"How's your hearing?" he asked to keep the conversation and change the topic.

"Better. I suppose that, once I'm unwrapped from those bandages, I'll be able to hear normally, at last."

Josh laughed softly. He wondered whether he could be more happy. He had Alain by his side, he could joke with him... and everything was fine. "Ah!" He reached to the bag, taking out a small box. Only today he'd remembered to go _there_. He put the package on the bed. Alain looked at the white carton, then at him again and finally opened it. And looked at Josh again.

"Cheesecake is-" Josh started explaining.

"Your favourite food," Alain interrupted him. "I didn't forget."

Josh gulped and looked him in the eye, and then lowered his gaze at two pieces of cake in the box with the logo of _Shelly_.

"One for you," Alain said, moving the box toward him.

Josh regarded him again and took the piece with shaking hand. "For..." he started, but his voice failed him.

Alain observed him from under the fringe. "For?" he repeated.

Josh waved his free hand. "Well, you know..."

Alain tilted his head. "For that we always... have enough cheesecake?"

"Alain...! Don't joke, I tried to be serious."

Alain laughed, and Josh dug into the cake, closing his eyes involuntarily. Only one thing could beat that taste... but he had better not think about it or he would choke.

'For that we always have enough cheesecake...' He opened his eyes when a sudden realization struck him. "Oh."

"Mhm?" Alain gave him a look from over his piece.

"Remember... Long ago I wondered which part is the best..." Josh looked at the piece of cheesecake in his hand. The crust was gold at the bottom, the cheese was almost white, and the icing was shimmering silverly at the top. "And you said that it's the overall taste that matters." Alain stared at him and then nodded. "You were right... They don't really count if solo. The bottom is only crumbly layer, the middle is but a normal curd, and icing... is sweet, but you can't eat a lot of it." He lowered his hand and looked at Alain, frowning. "Don't you think life is the same? The bottom... the base is sometimes so fragile... What a person is, what they are born with... It doesn't take much to crush them. The filling... it's every day that holds the base. It may be pretty bland itself, but the more of it, the stronger the person becomes. And the icing... It's that sweetness, those events one wants to live for, those most beautiful moments... The layer is very thin 'cause if you had too much, it would stop being beautiful." He stared at the piece in his hand again and then put it in his mouth.

Alain slightly raised his brows. "Don't you think you sometimes cerebrate too much?" he asked after a moment.

Josh swallowed the cake. "I do," he agreed. "But I like the theory anyway," he added, licking the icing from his fingers.

"I don't see anyone else coming up with it," Alain said with a reluctant awe. "Life is like a cheesecake..." he repeated thoughtfully.

"Come on, you don't have to make fun of me." Josh wiped his fingers with a napkin. "I know cheesecake is just a cake. So what that I like it? Though, not as much as-"

Alain raised his brows even higher, and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Yes?"

"Yes."

"There's something you like more than chees-"

"There is," Josh whispered when their lips parted. He was still cupping Alain's face. "When will they discharge you?"

"Tomorrow," Alain replied in a quivering whisper.

Josh returned to his chair and tucked a strand of his hair behind left ear. Suddenly, he didn't know what to say. What would happen tomorrow? He felt so many emotions, anticipations, hopes... He had so many wishes. "I..." he started and stopped.

Alain reached and touched his cheek. "I'll make an effort so that you don't veer," he said softly, looking him in the eye, and his gaze made Josh feel dizzy. Josh smiled. "And then..." Alain added with a twinkle, although Josh suspected he was dead serious, "then we'll learn how to make a cheesecake on our own."

* * *

That night Josh couldn't fall asleep, excited and filled with bright visions, as well as those more passionate. In the morning, he was waked up by phone ringing, a sound he'd managed to unaccustomed himself to. Erwin was glad to finally hear him again and questioned him about what had been happening to him. However, he quickly noticed the laughter that Josh's every word rang with, and Josh told him everything was okay and that Erwin would find it himself once he was back. He didn't want to say any details, for he was of the opinion it wasn't something to tell on the phone. Besides, Erwin was still in his honeymoon. However, Josh was looking forward to the moment he would meet his friends again, and he hoped they would appreciate his happiness, even if they would have a hard time to accept the fact it resulted from Alain.

The day was sunny, and Josh was under the impression his joy was even brighter than the sun when they left the hospital together. There was no-one to welcome them, just like no-one had brought them flowers before. They didn't neet it; it was a holiday of just them two. Only nurses from otolaryngology ward - blushing to a woman, except for the charge nurse, who must have seen a lot in her life - waved them goodbye and wished them luck, for what Josh thanked shyly, albeit honestly.

Alain was already allowed to walk, so they decided to go on foot. The new flat was pretty close; although it remained unclear to Josh how Alain had managed to rent it, he didn't care. He had collected the keys from the agent in the morning, and now they were slowly heading for the Eagle Street. Climbing the stairs took its toll on Alain, but Josh offered him the arm - and everything else if needed - and they soon reached their destination.

The apartment was completely different from that closet Alain had used to live in. Two rooms, kitchen, bathroom and balcony - it made Josh think of Erwin's and Cecile's flat. There were pale lilac wallpaper with light touch, a yellow sofa and a soft carpet in the living room, as well as white net curtains in the windows letting the afternoon sunlight in. It was a warm, cheerful and peaceful place. A perfect place to start one's life anew.

Josh sat down on the couch, as if trying out its softness, and Alain took the place next to him. "It felt good to go outside," he said, and Josh wondered whether he was referring only to his stay in hospital.

"Mmm," he agreed, leaning against him and closing his eyes. "Let's go to a meadow one day..."

"To make wreaths?"

Josh smiled. "Why not? You looked good..."

"I still regret..."

"What?"

"That I didn't piggyback you."

Josh held back a snigger. Really, what kind of ideas was Alain having...

"Well, it's never too late," Alain added in a somewhat suggestive voice.

"Where did it come from?"

"I don't know. It fits somehow... the overall image. I give you a piggyback ride, and you wear a wreath and laugh."

"For such things, you should find yourself a girl." He might be a romanticist, but some things even he regarded over the top. "Too much of fresh air, Alain."

"A girl..." Alain felt like snorting, and then he slid one hand in his hair.

Josh gave in to the caress. Alain apparently liked his hair... Maybe that was why he thought of the wreaths? In fact... maybe that vision wasn't that bad? He really could imagine it. He couldn't stop smiling... He snuggle up to Alain even closer. He felt so good...

When he waked up, it was getting dark. He blinked, confused, and then sat up. Alain was still sitting next to him, his green eyes glistening.

"You should have waked me..." Josh murmured.

"We have time," was the calm answer, but under that calm something seemed to live with its own life.

Josh shook his head - to refresh himself and to disagree. For his part... he had been waiting too long. Now, he was already on fire. "Alain..." he moaned.

The flash in Alain's eyes grew more intense... and the next moment they were kissing just like Josh had always imagined. Alain pushed him down on the couch and was now leaning over him, his tongue making Josh's tongue's acquaintance, and Josh was glad to be lying, for suddenly he was absolutely sure he wouldn't keep his balance anyway. Alain... _knew_ how to kiss. He slipped one hand in Alain's hair and undid the binding at his neck. Alain pulled away to grasp for air, a break that Josh welcomed with relief and regret at the same time.

He looked up at the beloved face and raised one hand to tuck a strand of Alain's hair behind his ear. Alain grabbed his hand and kissed its inside, which made Josh moan again, and then came another kiss, and yet another, and...

"More," Josh uttered realizing he was so hot he could explode any moment. "I want more."

Alain tore away from his throat he'd been eagerly taking care of, and gave him, it seemed to Josh, a puzzled look.

"I want you... all," Josh whispered, pressing his hips against Alain's in a meaningful gesture, he hoped.

Much to his surprise, Alain moved away, averting his eyes. "For that matter... I... err..."

Josh focused his gaze on him, absorbing every detail of his face and his every grimace. "You don't want it?" he whispered, although the body above him showed opposite.

"It's not that," Alain quickly looked at him. The passion in his eyes spoke for itself. Josh suppressed another moan.

"You may do what you want to me... I... trust you," he said. "I know you're not going to hurt me."

"It's not that," Alain repeated, and now his voice was almost hysterical.

Josh frowned. Then, what was it about? His mind was already offering him possible explanations and scenarios, among them the most pessimistic in which he would stay a virgin forever... No, it was very egoistic of him. Besides, he had been of the opinion he would settle with just holding hands, hadn't he?

He tried to gather his thoughts. Holding hands...? What did it mean?

He blinked, trying to focus his eyes on Alain, who apparently had some problem. "Alain?"

"I... don't... I don't know what to do."

Josh blinked again. And then he sat up, pressing his forehead against Alain's, keeping the sigh and the remark about amateurs without imagination to himself. To tell the truth, the thought that Alain desired him more he could really grasp it filled him with affection. And the issue could be solved very easily anyway. And very pleasantly.

Shiver ran through his body. "You see, Alain. It's good you have me," he said in a low voice. "You're not the first one coming to me with that problem."

Alain's eyes got round as saucers, or so it seemed to Josh. He smiled and then moved both hands on Alain's neck.

"I'm going to... teach you too." He could almost see the word 'too' forming in Alain's mind. No, he wasn't going to be cruel, especially after all those promises...

He brought his lips closer to his lover's ear and smiled. "But _this time_... I'm going to do it practically."

THE END

* * *

_Mä reppuselässä sinua vien,_  
_sä naurat ja sun naurus tukkii koko tien ja_  
_hiuksiini kukista seppeleen teet._  
_Olen narkomaani sua hengittäen_

* * *

_Chemistry, "This Night"_  
_Dingo, "Autiotalo" (I give you a piggyback ride / You're laughing, and your laughter fills the whole road / And you make a wreath for my hair / I'm an addict as I breathe with you.)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Bonus_

"Could you please remind me again... what are we doing here?"

"The doctor said someone should attend to my depression..."

"Yeah, I know, but... What are _we_ doing here?"

"Oh. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be diagnosed with something, too."

"..."

"Maybe they would find why sometimes you change into completely another person."

"..."

"But, seriously... Thanks for coming with me."

"I told you I will never..."

"Yes? Say it... please."

"I will never let go of you."

* * *

_January - April 2012_

* * *

_**I dedicate this story to all people struggling against mental illnesses, especially depression.**_  
_~Clio_


End file.
